FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Chapter 2

"Entropy"

Rana sighed, relishing in the wind's gentle roll beneath her wings as she soared a clear, star-studded sky. Her limbs stretched, breaking aerodynamic posture for a second, then recovering. She enjoyed the pressure of the wind; a sensation of icy air combing her fur, like the world's most thorough brush. From her view, she observed fiery streetlights flickering dimly beside Lurwelk's city households; glowing amber constellations dappling the vacant cobblestone streets. There came a deep breath, settling into a relaxed tone. "Wallace should witness this." She blurted, head tilting observantly. What a shame nobody was out after curfew. It was that damned Kingdom's tyrannical laws. Rana frowned in disappointment, nodding slowly. 'Humans', she mused. 'They were never so uptight back as primitives.' She reminisced, scanning up and down, beholding the twinkling lights shining in duality on both ends. Forgotten eras resurfaced in her mind, of when human tribes had hunted with her. Ate with her. Even slept together in bundles with her, safely nestling over animal furs within their crystal caverns. In those precious times, they valued her protection —as she recalled— cooking special stews for her in unexpected, yet heartwarming reimbursement. Her eyes longed at the memory; smiles of beloved humans she once knew flashing within her mind.

She could still taste the distinct broth of their cooking, sensing its resonance; how much it meant to her as they expressed their sincerest friendships. To be given such love, unconditionally, and to be wanted by masses of those she called family. Those were the peaceful times, indeed. Such simplicity in their natural courses. It'd been so long since she last thought about her first human tribe; her beloved second family. Indistinguishable to blood relatives in spirit. She tried not to think about them, as her watering eyes reflected a passing ocean of stars. Rana's mind wandered, gazing into the horizon of a black and silver night. Maybe they were gazing down at her, she thought, the same way her luminous emerald eyes swept the lands from above. Delicately ruminating on those thoughts, her expanding irises located pieces of mossy debris; ancient stone ingrained within the nighted woods. Crumbling arches stood tall where bells once hung, built over a thinning stack of rock and mortar.

Rana soared, observing the partially walled ruins of ancient slabs and entangled pavement. Whispers came to mind, pushed by the Humans of Lurwelk she'd overheard, as well as within the conversations of Rethelia's Beast-Folk. She forgot at which point both agreed to calling it 'The Shrine,' ignorant of its foggy history. Sure, it wasn't like they could carbon-date or anything, but their efforts to investigate never went over well. Rana thought back, unable to recall a single person who didn't regret an excavation. Most had died, submerged by broken cobblestones and collapsing dirt; a heart-wrenching memory she dispersed with the shake of her head. Nowadays, anyone exploring it —or attempting to, for that matter— she remembered being driven off screaming by the slithering roots of her father. "Forest spirits" they called them, with false plurality. There was only one, however. Rana dove down, piercing the wind before descending to a slow glide. She checked her surroundings, eyes brushing past stone arches obscured by overgrown ivy, alongside twiggy nests that adorned a broken row of standing pillars.

Nothing seemed out of ordinary tonight, aside from a single slip of paper lying ahead on a cracked stone pulpit. Just as she expected, the parchment was held down by a rock. Like a phoenix unfolding it's wings, Rana's armlike membranes retracted into her body, consuming them with a flare of green flames. She shrunk, letting the embers drift off her sprouting hair and shoulders as she sauntered past the rotted shavings of former congregational benches. She silently passed between each pillar in human form, her bare feet padding over cool moss between the cracks of an ancient foundation. Stopping at the shattered wall, chirping arachnids sounded behind it, hiding their appearances from birds and bears alike. She stepped over and took the note, spreading it out as her luminous green eyes fell on lines of barely legible chicken-scratch.

"Dear stranger.

I'm sorry I never got your name before, and I'm even more sorry I robbed your friend. I have nothing to give, disappointing as that sounds. I feel like a fool, having to ask others for help. Ironic, isn't it? I've developed a nasty comfort for stealing, rather than just asking. Many people hate me for this reason. For a time, I thought maybe even the Gods must've hated me. If what you told me about this shrine is really true, then the Gods must actually exist. You must be their angel! Please forgive me for asking so selfishly, but I'd be tremendously grateful if you'd provide me a means to navigate the dusk. Possibly a torch or lantern. My eyesight only works well during the day, and isn't sharp at night. So I might wait here for you. Food would also be ideal, if you're willing to part with any. Many thanks, and may the Gods bless your soul."

–Dmitri

Rana's eyes fell in somber disappointment. 'An angel?' She thought, solemnly facepalming. She groaned faintly, pushing a tired stream of air from her lungs. The theif was clearly terrified, behaving in a manner that contradicted how crudely he'd acted before. What's worse, is he must've seen her arrive. No night-blind human could've walked themselves back to Lurwelk while the stages of twilight bled into dusk. Which meant he was probably there, hiding somewhere. Rana's eyes closed, scanning her surroundings with every other sense. She focused her six senses on the rustle of leaves swaying around her, honing in on the scent of every individual plant, including those beyond eyeshot. Her senses narrowed down over the mass of someone curled behind the podium, ridiculously close to where she stood. She felt somewhat silly for not checking behind it. She deadpanned in silence, kicking herself for her lack of thoroughness.

Taking three steps towards the podium, Rana addressed the man by name. "Dmitri, how much of that did you see?" She asked, peeking over the top. To her confusion, he sat there motionless, breathing peacefully in an apparent deep sleep. Her senses and experience combined were enough to determine he was faking. Nuanced subtleties spoke an involuntary body language, of which humans were often unaware of. She rolled her eyes, trying not to sound displeased. "I'm aware of your fakery, Dmitri. You can get up." She said, calling him out. After a couple seconds of awkward silence, the unkempt man gave in, his shoulders dropping as he squared on two legs. "P-please don't be mad at me. I wasn't sure if you wanted to meet here or not, or if I should've came back later . . . after leaving the note." He said meekly, wearing an anxious frown. In contrast with their last meeting, the man's legs trembled as a bead of sweat crawled down his forehead. He made a sad, doughy-eyed look, dreading her reprimands in advance.

"Listen, Dmitri. I read your note. I'd like to explain something to you, before anything goes out of hand." Rana placed a palm on his back, keeping his attention. She stuck out three fingers with her other hand, counting each digit as she fleshed out the details. "First thing you should know; I'm not a god or goddess." She clarified carefully, promptly pausing so he could take the time to absorb her words. He just blinked as silence fell betwen them, until she resumed. "Second, I'm not an angel, demon, reaper, spirit, prophet or paranormal messenger of any kind." Her eyes stared intently, unblinking until he gave an understanding nod. "Okay . . ." He replied nervously, his eyes shifting down in contemplation. "And third, I'm a Dragon. And you should never tell this to anyone, unless you're comfy with other humans throwing you into a padded cell." She finally said. There was no leeway for escalation, especially when it involved unsolicited worship. Despite the world's belief that Dragons were entirely fictional, such cults were unfortunately a popular theme.

Rana cringed upon thinking back on the last one, which was founded a century ago, all because Damius couldn't stop showing off to human girls. That ended quickly after being put under scrutiny by their bosses. "A Dragon?" He repeated, his face weighing with confusion. "But . . . that just doesn't make sense. What does that have to do with the Gods? They're giving me a second chance, aren't they?" He asked, solemnly puzzled. Rana looked down at him, somewhat surprised. However, her eyes were mostly filled with pity. "No, Dmitri. I'm sorry to say this, but the Gods you were taught about so vehemently don't exist. Your church is a cornerstone for many human rights activists, but humanity's true origins still remains a mystery." She said somberly. Dmitri's eyes shot wide, as if something inside him had cracked. A pang of dread twisted from his bowels, crawling up his stomach like an aggressive worm. It was like a sudden switch went off, triggering a look of confusion and anger. "Just who are you to say that!?" He exclaimed, backing away as his eyes widened. Rana reared her head, sorrowful in her reply. "Probably a demon or evil spirit of some kind, according to you." She retorted sarcastically, her eyes half-lidded in a sardonic stare. "Am I wrong, Dmitri? Isn't that what you'd think?" She questioned, sassily leaning forward.

Dmitri brushed away the scraggly dark hair falling over his vision, revealing Rana's inquisitive expression. "I'm . . . not certain." He said, looking up and trembling. "You're asking a lot, especially if you expect me to just believe you. I walked my feet raw coming here for help —not to change my faith!" He scowled nervously. A bead of sweat rolled down his forehead as he stared reminiscently. "My parents read The Great Credence to me every single night, and it's stories always inspired me. —Gave me good dreams, and hope . . . but now you're saying it's all a lie, as if I'm supposed to believe that?" He scowled as his fists quivered. A fiery irritation shot from Rana's eyes, clearly annoyed by something he said. She pointed a finger at him, leaning forward. "That's not what I said!" She scolded sternly. "I'm just showing you reality, not trying to ruin your life! So now's your last time: Is there anything you need, or not?" The urgency in her voice grew. Dmitri froze for a moment, remembering the gurgling emptiness in his stomach.

Standing there in silence, a sinking feeling engrossed him, as if his soul had been submerged in cold water. Yes, an existential nightmare was crumbling around him . . . Regardless, a rumble still croaked through his belly. His hungry brain envisioned an angry mythical beast, either biting his head off, or leaving him to starve in the wooded darkness. 'Would she?' He wondered.

Rana's expression fell, her eyes reflecting the needy man's disheveled image. "I . . . I'm sorry." He replied before her, softly clenching his teeth. "I walk the streets filthy every day against my own will. My faith is all I have left that provides any comfort. Please try to understand." He pleaded, his shoulders dropping. "Even though I've lived a horrible life, I can't abandon my beliefs." His face fell in capitulation. Thin lines of moisture laced the seams of his eyes. A tinge of guilt fluttered inside Rana's soul. She nodded, frowning with the vagrant. "Then don't. In fact, allow me to apologize. What you believe won't change my offer. There are Gods out there . . . just not any you'd know about." She corrected, reaching behind her back. Initially, a spark of frustration made him want to object. Instead, Dmitri fell distracted, catching a glimpse of something emanating behind her; flickers of green light danced from an array of lime-colored embers, revealing an object. He flinched, confused by the spreading flash. Rana's hand pulled out a dark-silver contraption hanging from a matching handle. The antique was fixed with four crystal panes which magnified a crisp bluish light. There rectangular facets protruded slightly, reminiscent of an emerald carving. They guarded a turquoise flame, dancing hypnotically while casting a translucent sea-green glow upon the abandoned stones. "Here, this lantern will always stay lit, even underwater. I no longer find it useful." She offered. His fingers practically vibrated, wrapping timidly around the handle.

"By the Gods." He said in a hush, his mouth agape, marveling intently at the off-color flame. "What even makes this possible?" He asked, accepting the item and dangling it up to his face. Rana cracked a faded smile, remembering an expansive seascape. "An endlessly talkative sea-Dragon; a friend of mine." She replied. He arched his brow, falling deeper into bewilderment. "A what? A sea-Dragon?" Dmitri stuttered, his eyes exchanging between Rana and the lantern. "There's other kinds?" His eyes grew wide like saucers, delving into a deep state of thought. "Do they change forms too?" An eager curiosity oozed from his face.

Rana nodded, breathing a soft sigh. "Of course. You've likely spoken with many unwittingly." She said, flashing a look of concern. His benign wonder suddenly crossed into something unhealthy. There was an obsessive streak in his eyes. It somewhat unnerved her, bringing her to wonder if she should've just kept her mouth shut. Since his current sanity seemed less than ideal, she knew to think fast. "How hungry are you again? I have something you might like." She suggested, quickly changing the topic. The distraction seemed to work, causing his eyes to light up. "You have food?" He asked, suddenly fixated. "With me? —No." She nodded. "But I have something you can learn to use." She said, pulling another item from her alleged hammerspace. In her hand, Rana offered a collapsible metal rod with clear fishing line weaved through various small loops. "You know how the saying goes, right? 'Teach a man to hunt'?" She inquired, handing it out. Dmitri grapsed the copper-green handle, baring a plain gaze that slowly ebbed into a smile. "And he'll feed himself for life." He finished servilely, observing the gift with intrigue.

In his eyes, the craftsmanship was near-perfect, even otherworldly. Dmitri freed his hands by hanging the new lantern on his belt. He rotated the fishing rod in amazement. "Good Gods! I could feed myself for years just by auctioning this!" He exclaimed, eyes agog. Rana glared at him, rumbling a faint growl that shook beneath his feet. His heart palpated, body jolting in remembrance of what she was. "If you sell that, I'll take the money by force . . . and you'll get a string attached to a stick instead." She chided. Dmitri's grin extinguished, heeding the look of disapproval on her face. That glow in her eyes was like an anvil of sternness weighing on his shoulders, sinking him into the ground. He gave a frantic reply. "I won't! I won't! I promise! Cross my heart, I'll use it only for fishing!" He said, his hands flinging up. Rana studied his face intently, until she was convinced. "Fine then. There's a pond nearby, just behind these catacombs." She directed, irking in realization at that last word. "I mean shrine! —Behind this shrine." She corrected, forcing a calm façade.

"I got it mixed up with another place." She explained casually. Luckily, Dmitri wasn't concerned with her apparent misnomer. His mind drifted elsewhere, glancing towards the song of chirping arachnids emanating from the pond. Their delicate chirps didn't belong to birds or crickets, but a species of aquatic spiders he recalled as 'Glass-Gliders'. His expressionless eyes exuded a hint of fear. "I don't have to fish here, do I?" He asked, staring apprehensively towards the pond. A faint, but understanding smile curved on her lips. "Oh. You're afraid of spiders?" She asked indifferently. "I may not understand your fear, but let me give you some advice." She said, reaching for the rod's hook. "If you pluck off a Glass-Glider's legs, it won't hurt them, and will even grow back." Her fingers pinched the hook demonstratively, as if sticking something onto it. "Put their legs on this hook, like so. Keep your fingers like this, so the hook doesn't prick them." She instructed. Dmitri observed, nodding his head attentively. Then she continued.

"Their bodies release a chemical that fish love, so their legs can be used as exceptional bait." She elaborated. Dmitri blinked thrice, taken aback by her wisdom. "I've never heard of that trick. What if they jump at me?" He asked. There was visible fright in his eyes, picturing the crystal-clear legs of those grotesque creatures. Rana answered by reaching for the contraption's handle and flicking a tiny switch. With a dull metal 'click', a fairly-sized net unfolded from the handle's interior. The crosshatched threads were also made of transparent fishing line. "Take their assault as an opportunity to catch them." She suggested. Rana promptly turned around, ambling away without warning. Dmitri eyed the net, still unnerved, but seized with intrigue. Rana's two legs carried her out the way she came, knees slightly bent in preparation of an imminent takeoff. Dmitri steadied the lantern on his waist, letting a flood of turquoise light gently wash over the ancient ruins, illuminating Rana's departure.

Basked in the sea-green glow, a pair of wings stretched from Rana's shoulderblades, summoning a wind that billowed Dmitri's hair back with the surrounding leaves. Her body lowered to all fours, growing in unison with an elongating tail that wavered in suspension like a serpent. Dmitri gasped. With a proper light-source at hand, his vision wasn't obscured like last time. He could see every single detail now, marveling in shock at the frenzy of green flames encasing every contortion of flesh flaring into fur. He'd seen her at a distance when she'd arrived, though unable to identify much. In finality of the transformation, Rana's long neck craned, her head nodding back with a pleasant farewell. "Be safe, Dmitri, and good luck." She said, before launching into the midnight air with herculean strength. The ruins quickly shrank below her, disappearing into an expanse of ivy-green. A beaming look of accomplishment barely crossed her face, but sudden thoughts of Wallace crept to mind instead.

A certain parallel was easy to draw between him and Dmitri: Both were reclusive outcasts, each with a touch of misanthropy. From what she knew about the fickle state of human nature, they'd either get along like a dream, or bite each other's throats out. She snickered lightly at the duality, reverting back to a reminiscent gaze. The scenic view of endless redwoods always relaxed her, making her feel like she wasn't alone. As she soared towards her next destination, Rana's mind drifted like the wind, roaming off to times long-passed. As reality faded into daydreams, she felt the phantom sensation of little legs clinging to her back. Voices of an ancient language lost to history echoed from the depths of her memory, translating fluently. "Rana, look how close the clouds are!" A young finger shot towards the cottony white nimbi, feet kicking with excitement. "Fly higher! I want to bring back a piece! Mom will go insane!"

An almost involuntary chuckle shook Rana's body, both in her mind and reality alike. "It's just floating water-dust, Grellus, your hands would simply pass through." She explained carefully, making her words as comprehensible to the cave-child as possible. "I wanna try anyways!" He said demandingly, with both arms extended, and his body lunging upwards on repeat. Rana's body inched up and down with each bounce. She gave a patient, caring smirk. "Don't fall off, Grellus. I'll have to dive down and catch you again." She said mirthfully, giving a mischievous look. The boy's arms folded into his raggedy brown clothes, barely pouting. "You shouldn't enjoy that! What if I hit the ground one day? Wouldn't be laughing then, would you?" He asked loudly. Rana held her head proudly. "It would take a god to impede my reflexes." She replied, turning around to Grellus with a boastful smirk. "And believe me, that's no exaggeration." She assured.

Her emerald eyes glimmered with confidence, sufficiently quelling a portion of his fears. "Are there any gods, Rana?" Grellus asked, yelling over the rushing winds. Rana's expression fell, weighted by the serious question. "Yes, there are." She answered calmly. Her eyes stared musingly into the sunset, pausing momentarily. "I believe some are even among us, hiding in plain sight." She surmised, her eyes shifting across the woods below, upon Beast-Folk tribes, Dragons and humans alike. "Kind of like your friends?" He asked, gazing eagerly towards her. Rana's head nodded side to side. "Not like them, no. I think the gods are more careful than we are. Nobody knows what or who they might be." She answered, her voice steeped in rumination. "I believe that someday, humans will make their own gods, and the real ones will never be discovered." She predicted musingly. The rumbling wind seemed to steady itself as Grellus sat still and silent, absorbing her words.

Rana then realized how stray the topic of conversation was. She smiled nervously, somewhat apologetic. "Just please don't tell your father we spoke of this. You know how he feels about gods." She requested, holding back a look of guilt. "I won't." Grellus promptly agreed. His tone was lackadaisical, trained in hiding minor secrets to the point of ad nauseum. Her head turned around, aiming an eye at him from one side. "Good. It'll be our little secret." She replied, curving a lighthearted grin. After facing back towards the horizon, they didn't speak for some time, just staring into Rethelia's endless reaches. Seconds passed into minutes, until Grellus finally broke the silence. "Rana . . . How old do I look?" He asked, oddly lacking tone. Somewhat thrown off, her brow arched in question, turning again to face him. "That should be easy. You look just about your—"

Rana's voice stopped through a jolt, speechless at what she saw. An ancient corpse's desiccated face stared back at her with blackened eye-sockets, sitting where Grellus had been. Rana's eyes shot wide, heart pounding before jolting awake through a fear-mangled roar. The encompassing rays of daylight blinked into oblivion, leaving her in starry darkness. "Grellus!!" She screamed aloud, still gliding diagonally downwards. Sucking in breaths, she tried to steady herself mid-flight. Within that moment of distraction, a thin treetop smacked her in the neck, sounding a wooden explosion. That was enough to fully snap her back to awareness. She spread her wings with urgency, forcing a smooth descent, although rushed. Her body tensed up, hunched over the forest dirt. With abated breaths, her neck inched down, then back up, coming to terms with the horrific dream. Rana's claws curled into the mossy earth, getting a feel for reality, though barely able to think. Her head shook, breaking from a mild stupor.

With that, she stood there for a full minute, neck craned with her face glaring into moist mixtures of brittle twigs and dirt. "Fucking nightmares!" She seared, cursing whatever force ruled over the realm of sleep and dreams. Vulgarities scarcely passed her teeth, but this time was different. A thick fog of fear lingered over her. Rana's thoughts ran by themselves as she strained to shake the terror away. 'Why now?' She questioned, coming off as if offended. Her maw hung open in a constant gasp, trying to shake that desiccated face out of her mind. Enigmatic as it was, an ancient fracture of forgotten grief awakened within her, having laid dormant for all these millenniums. With a creeping blight of realization, tears beaded in her eyes. Burdened by a million thoughts and emotions, she knew that damn dream presented some mental relation to Wallace.

Her claws dug so deep, they gripped mud at the thought of time's sadistic ticking, and the inevitable fate of every mortal she met. A slamming bang from her tail shook the ground, rustling the trees as Rana gritted her teeth. Her voice was calm, yet piercing the air with its depth. "No." She whispered defiantly, trailing into a growl. "Not this time." She said through strained words. Due to her tremorous landing, all nocturnal critters either froze like statues or darted off, leaving her in dead silence. A plummeting sensation lingered in her chest and belly. She knew it wasn't because of the spastic landing. Claws raking her face, she exuded a temperance of turmoil. "It's been too long . . . I can't take this anymore." She said morosely. Rana's voice withdrew into the confines of thought, her eyes reflecting an infinite void of stars as she somberly mused. 'I refuse to ignore this any longer.' She said internally, her eyes tightening shut and wincing against an agony forgotten long ago. Slowly but surely, she gradually postured herself, wiping a trickle of tears off her face. Rethelia's wooden skyscrapers loomed above her like endless beams, easily trumping her size as they rustled gently in the subtle breeze. Nighttime's peaceful slumber roused gradually into a flux of abundant noises, harkening volumes in Rana's ears.

Within the melodic façade of billowing leaves, she felt the weight of a presence beyond them. It emanated an instant familiarity, rumbling the ground beneath her so subtly, one could hardly call it a tremor. What could've been dismissed as a wisp of wind brushed against her fur, gently speaking in decibels fainter than a whisper. "Rana . . . Speak to Felraya." Said the voice, producing so little sound, it might as well have been her own thoughts. Instead of the expected reaction one might have to hearing voices in the woods, Rana blew a jaded sigh. She deadpanned, responding in monotone. "I know, father. There's nobody else I can go to." She said irritably, fighting an aftermath of fear in her chest. A stretch of green light suddenly lit in her peripheral vision. It crawled up one of the redwoods in serpentine motions, pulsating with life, like veins of ichor.

Her head turned to focus on it, curiously watching the glowing streams twist into verdant markings over rough bark. She squinted ever so slightly, moreso in stark offense in than concentration. "Go to him, conceive my grandchildren?" She muttered in question, reading it aloud as her expression went sour. "Father . . ." Rana's tone fell, face buried in her claws. "I'm going through a terrible time, and this is your concern?" She grumbled.

The luminous letters contorted and writhed, rearranging intricately. "Apologies, dear. Dream-level awareness." It read, much to Rana's jaded impatience. Of all drakes in this Universe, her father's mental state was the only one like itself. "I had a nightmare mid-flight. Take a look and see." Rana sighed, wings folded tight as she waited. After minutes of silence, the characters flashed a virid light, reanimating again. She had to stretch her neck a bit, reading what appeared higher up. "Please forgive your foolish father, love. Your emotional wounds run deep, and I have failed to treat them. Go to Felraya, and she will assist you. I have already spoken with her about this." He spelled back.

Rana reeled back, giving his message a double-take. She knew her father to possess some astral form of precognition, likely explaining his preparedness. 'Liambold Rethelia; dragling prodigy of Nitár, Oracle of Stars'. His name and story echoed in her mind, clawing back up from forgotten ages of yore. Though that hardly mattered compared to more pressing topics.

"YOU went to Felraya?" Rana froze, a pang of fear ringing in her head, abruptly shifting into rage. "Father, what is wrong with you? Have you gone insane!?" She yelled, eyes gaping in fear. Verdant symbols scrawled again over the redwood bark. Rana's body went stiff upon reading it aloud, her steady voice wavering. "Desperate measures call in the face of . . ." She paused briefly, reading it in question. "existential threat?" Rana's brows arched worriedly for a moment, before narrowing into a softly critical scowl. "You'll have to be more specific, father. What do you mean?" She asked, clenching her teeth.

The green text appeared once more, this time drawing a subtle gasp from Rana's lungs. "Tell me. Is he truly ignorant of his situation?"

Rana's body tensed at the question, as if any random eavesdropper could've read it. Her furtive gaze scanned around the woods, waiting a moment. With their privacy secured, she turned back to the messages. "Don't tell him! He's not supposed to know yet!" She cautioned urgently, head lowering into a pensive gaze. "I'll . . . I'll find a way." She muttered. Her tone dropped, head dipping down in deep contemplation. "He isn't like before. He's skeptical . . . of everything. So I'll need to introduce it all slowly; carefully."

Virid letters dotted across the red bark, spelling one word. Somehow, it weighed on her more than the rest combined:

"How?"

Her father —always the wise drake— wasn't likely to ask such a question. Her expression gloomed, somewhat discouraged. "I don't know. I'm not sure how he'd take it."

There came a tense pause. During that time, Liambold's writing faded, gradually generating new text in its place. Rana's verdant eyes glid over it, internally reading. "We can prevent this; your misery, and the threat alike. Go to Felraya, now! Tell her I sent you!" His scrawlings were written with less grace than before.

Rana growled, baring her teeth in annoyance. "Only if you promise never to associate with that psychopath ever again!" She chided. Her low, throaty rumbles rattled through her father's roots. One more message glowed across the tree. Rana took a brief glance . . . only for her eyes to widen furiously. "Which one?" It read. She reeled, unable to impede the rage bubbling within. A smoldering stretch of virid embers crawled along her fur, claws curled out. "The one who gruesomely murders her victims and wears their skulls on her face, you dolt!" She hissed, narrowing a harsh glare as her tone intensified. "You already know Wallace is nothing like that! You wouldn't have helped me save him otherwise, so don't be a fool!" Rana turned around, loudly swiping her tail-tip into the bark. A discernible mark cut across its glowing text. In an act of poor timing, another sentence illuminated the surface again.

This time, Liambold's messages were distorted, partially cut off by the notch left by her tail. "I have no qualms against Wallace. I only fear _-- __-_-er_--t."

While still mad at her father, Rana's fury melded briefly with confusion, eyes flicking over curiously at the obstructed message. Brushing it off, her nose turned away again, rekindling with anger. "It doesn't matter how you see him. I couldn't care less if you give us your blessings or not." She shot a prideful, sidelong glance. "I would've planned on contacting Felraya anyways, so I don't need you, or your affectations of 'help'!" She retorted. A faint symphony of leaves rustled far above her, barely reaching Rana's ears. Yet there was no wind, and not a creature in sight. There was an urgency in the air, tacitly beckoning her to listen and read again. She deliberately dismissed it, spanning out her wings for an oncoming takeoff. Rana's back legs launched her upwards with an abrupt lunge, dispersing the upper layer of dirt into a rough circle. A trail of olive-lime embers followed, marking her fiery lividity.

It'd been so many nights since she'd spoken with her father. When kept in solitude, he was awfully lonely; an emotion she often identified with. The urge to make a sharp turn and apologize through a flood of tears clenched strongly over her heart . . . yet she didn't. It affected her flying, wings flapping heavily in the direction of a dry and barren desert simmering faraway.

The sun's lasers had already destroyed any moisture residing in those parts, even shriveling up what used to be shrouds of cacti. Its heatwaves rippled, partially obscuring the distant horizon, yet posing no threat to Rana's invulnerable flesh. Emerald flames cloaked her body, slimming down and narrowing every faculty as it burned away. Rana's form reconfigured, with shrouds of fire crawling over her limbs, singeing along her tail and torso, sharpening them into aerodynamic faculties as she shot through the air. Her wings spread out, batting in sequence to her increasing velocity. Swordlike wings cut through the wind's hot currents, bulleting her towards a smooth, rolling expanse of dunes. Her footclaws grappled the dusty sand, body simultaneously bursting with a flare of vibrant green. Rana's muscles steeped back into an olive blaze, restoring her natural traits.

Punctured between a series of infertile hills, a sinkhole of converging sand produced a faint fizzing sound in front of her. The unmapped anomaly was about Rana's width from neck to tail-base, pulling itself down to roughly seven feet. The gluttonous pit virtually stared back, filling her with trepidation. 'Here it is.' She thought, her drained eyes scanning the phenomenon. With the taste of guilt still lingering on her tongue, she stepped downwards, entering the desert's depths, letting it consume her. During a moment of sinking, a curtain of darkness fell over her clenching eyelids. A few seconds in, and her limbs were met with hollow space. As Rana's claws lowered, tapping against stone, an amber glow warmed her view, shining from ancient burial lamps beyond the sanded surface. While cascades of sand seemed to pour from a tenebrous point above, some streams also beelined up into the air. They swam in steady currents, returning to the surface like prevalent schools of floating fish. Her vision casted a verdant glow upon the drifting grains as they lazily returned to there places. Rana's wings casually pushed the rising flow of sand aside like a curtain as she ambled onwards. Her fuzzy reptilian feet parted the soft, grainy blankets, passing massive buried statues and jet-black architecture as she headed towards an imposing feline statue.

It's regal build was chiseled from an unknown pitch-black material, dotted with a pair of glowing rubies for eyes. The overawing depiction was robed, holding a scythe clad in silver skull adornments. The figure's tail bore a similar, yet smaller curved blade, connecting it to three exposed vertebrae leading into the appendage. Rana's stature as a mighty Dragon was dwarfed by the towering, actual-sized construct. Facing up, she halted amid a series of runic carvings that surrounded her periphery. Her claws trembled as she drew closer, gazing up at the statue through unblinking nervous eyes. 'Come on. You can do this.' Her conscience whispered. She attempted to move on forcibly, but her voice got snagged in her teeth. Starting over, she cleared her throat, facing the colossal effigy. "Queen Felraya!" She called out, feeling her stomach churn. "I wish to speak with you!" Her voice echoed off the sands, falling on dry, vacant space. At first, her call did little but propagate off the motionless cavern, fading into dead silence.

She stood there for roughly a minute, her impatience tantamount with the increasing pressure of how reckless this idea really was. Then her wings felt an ever-so-subtle tap, administered so lightly, it could've been easily dismissed as a brush of sand. The only giveaway was how it occurred on both shoulders simultaneously. Before she could react, a faint whisper came within centimeters of her ear. "Boo." Teased a carefree voice. Rana's head jolted with her body, twisting halfway to see a pair of rubescent glowing eyes. They were attached to a pitch-black void shaped and sized no differently than the giant statue itself . . . except this one's hood hung back, her tail-scythe swaying, and her ears twitching. "Hello, Rana." She greeted, slowly curling a mischievous smile. Rana's expression betrayed her body's fear with a deadpan glare. "Fel." She replied with lesser enthusiasm, subconsciously stepping back. The massive cat towered almost ten feet higher than Rana herself, sharp blades hidden everywhere as she gazed down with smoldering red orbs from Hell.

The only thing missing was her unrealistically large scythe. "You're here earlier than usual. Are there any sort of naughty, illicit items you need today?" She asked playfully, quirking a dirty smirk. Rana's stare froze for a second, until her mind registered Felraya's tone. She shook her head, twisting a wry, unamused look. "Please don't ask it like that." She rebuked with a sigh. The towering feline simpered through a rascally look. "Oh, my bad." She said mirthfully. Felraya's feet lifted off the ground, floating in a levitative state, relaxing weightlessly in a sidelong position. With every small motion, her robe drifted lazily through the air, like a thin sheet of silk underwater. "You're more nervous than usual, Rana. I assume you're not nabbing goodies this time?" She asked, turning an eye. Stepping forward, Rana discreetly buried her quivering claws under a pile of nearby sand. Just standing close enough, the cat's cosmic shadowy aura sent a chill down her spine. "I was hoping you could offer me a . . . a high-priority job." She said, spewing her words.

Felraya's eyebrows arched, her eyes lasering in bewilderment at the Dragoness. For a moment, the air froze into stillness. "You're joking." She said in monotone, her glowing red corneas glinting with fascination. They weren't exactly thick as theives, which gave the cat pause. Rana strained against a disdainful frown, keeping a stolid expression. "N-no, I'm not joking. I want your highest priority job . . . please. I'm sorry I neglected to do anything for you before." The words practically regurgitated from her mouth, bringing a puzzled look to the feline's smirk. "You haven't even started the job, and you look like crap already, Rana." She lectured, tilting her head. "You know I can't pass up an opportunity like this, don't you?" Asked the feline, eyes glinting with amusement. Fel's weightless figure zoomed in abruptly, scanning Rana's aspects, as if sizing her up for the first time. "And what would I give you in return, hmm?" Fel asked. Her eloquence flowed too perfectly through Rana's ears, exuding eons of experience. "Extra super-illegal contraband . . . ? Diplomatic immunity, resurrection, Dragon-Reaper status . . . or maybe, might it be . . ."

She leaned in towards Rana's ear, smiling smugly with her next words. "Eternal life for a lover?" She teased. Rana's claws popped out of the sand, as if subjected to a small zap. She'd nearly gasped, instead channeling the wind through her nose. Felraya's chuckles echoed through the cavern, attentively monitoring Rana's body language. "There it is! I knew it! It's always in the claws!" She said proudly. Rana's teeth clenched, rumbling a faint growl as she spoke. "I'll be willing to do anything you ask." She replied, feeling a pinch of sickness. "Hold on a second, let's not change the subject! This is getting good! Tell me who this lucky guy is!" Felraya's bladed tail flicked like a notched whip as she urged the Dragoness, sparking prickles of fear in her eyes. She would only find out later anyways, likely in a frustrated state and ready to "prank" her. Reluctantly mentioning his name, her tail 'fwipped' with trepidation. "His name is . . . Wallace Burgundy" She said through a strain, as if pushing the words out like an imbedded bullet.

The reaper's head snapped in her direction, throwing all other concerns to the wind. An immediate, heavy silence crushed the air around them. Felraya's breathing seemed to cease, as the air grew heavy with tension. Even the gentlest trickles of sand could be heard flowing about, its fizzles echoing within the dry cavern. Felraya's eyes grew like saucers, barely hinting at pure horror. It was like she'd been frozen in time, only indicating otherwise after eventually blinking. At least a response was expected, maybe some witty retort, or anything authentic of her . . . but she simply stared, as if paralyzed. Rana felt like she'd transitioned from a regal Dragoness, to a child who'd broken an expensive relic. She stood there, desperate to improvise an explanation in her mind. Death herself was literally staring her in the face, and obviously in a negative light. That didn't feel great.

"You already know what they are, Rana . . . but that one? That one, specifically?" She questioned, her face twisting into fright. Rana tried to tough it out; feign blindness to the judging glare that burrowed into her. "D-don't give me that look!" She snapped the air fearfully. "I found him a few months ago. He's a very sweet and peaceful man." She defended nervously. Felraya arched an eye-ridge. "Mhm, clearly." She heckled, as if recalling otherwise. Despite's Fel's sarcasm, Rana's expression grew less agitated as she reminisced on their time together. "Since he almost died, you likely remember his wolf attack. I've been keeping a watchful eye on him since the year before that." She explained. The cat paused, sorting through her memory. "Oh yeeaah, how could I forget? Your big, hunky dad saved him! And you healed his wounds, right?" She answered happily, snapping her fingers in a gunpoint gesture.

Rana deadpanned, sighing uncomfortably as she looked up. "Fel, please. Don't speak of my father that way." She replied, rolling her eyes. Fel simpered, smugly looking down at her. "Hey, I'm just speaking through 'first-hand' experience . . ." She clarified, suggestively stroking her fists up and down. "Namely, last night." She leaned closer for good measure, teasing her with a dirty grin. Rana's fangs flashed, her throat releasing a faint rumble. "Fel, please . . . Father is incorporeal. You can't sensically make 'I bedded your dad' jokes." She said in monotone, holding down an angry blush beneath her fur. "Anyways. As I was saying . . ." She paused, speaking brashly through a scowl. "Wallace loves animals, but he still hates humans, not that I hadn't expected that. It'll definitely be a challenge later on." She remarked, obstinately abandoning the previous topic.

As Fel literally drifted off with a silent gaze, she suddenly perked to awareness, seeming to puzzle everything together during Rana's 'rambling'. She lunged over weightlessly in one abrupt motion, anxiously slamming her claws over the Dragoness' shoulders. The ground cracked under Rana's toes as Fel's expression widened fearfully, even panicked. "Are you pulling my scythe!?" She yelled, her ears pinning back. "Wallace freakin' Burgundy!? That makes as much sense as a glass hat! How could you fall in love with him!? Why would you choose THAT creature, of all the parasites on this shit-green rock!?" Both their hearts thrummed tumultuously; one red with fear, and another green with irritation. Rana scowled as lime and crimson light clashed between their eyes. Her breath fell, brushing Felraya's claws away, and aggressively pushing her off with a grunt.

"That's everything I'm comfortable with telling you. I never bothered asking how you started your 'de facto', so treat me with the same respect." She sternly remarked, aware of Fel's contempt towards the topic. Upon meeting death, every deadman and dead-beast always asked the same hackneyed question in regards to her origins. The cat gave a wry look as she backed away. She breathed a long sigh, regaining her composure, and casually tilting upside-down as she spoke. Her body slowly turned like a clock as she playfully fidgeted with gravity to calm herself. "Oh, Rana, you silly, STUPID girl! . . . Must you make everything so complex~?" Fel's attitude seemed to shift like dice, her lithe body spinning around like a lost astronaut.

"You should've just mated yourself to a big, sexy Dragon! Humans aren't practical like you, Rana. Take my advice: dump the evil little skin-monkey. Do better . . . Go date something that isn't several evolutions away from chucking their shit at you." As she rotated, her eyes rolled in brief thought. "Then-again, that would actually be a step up from Wallace —gods-damned— Burgundy!" Her body finally returned to an upright level, complacently watching the irate Dragoness' claws curl into stone. Rana scowled bitterly. "They're my private affairs, and mine alone. I don't enjoy spilling every aspect of my life, just to curb your nosiness." Her wings twitched, claws curling in restraint as she glared up at Fel, holding down a torrent of impatience. Felraya passively waved her hand, either oblivious or not giving a rat's ass.

"Hmm, interesting. Speaking of 'private', did you two ever . . . you know?" Her tail curled into a loop, inching it back and forth as her brows bumped over a saucy grin. A string of hot steam danced from Rana's maw as she irked through feigned tolerance. "I'm not answering that." She retorted, turning her head away. Disappointed, Felraya's musing eyes wandered momentarily. As her enigmatic mind wondered, she stumbled upon an idea. "Hey, I was just wondering! . . . Y'know, out of some sick, twisted —probably mentally ill— curiosity." She defended sweetly, watching Rana's ears flatten. A modicum of pity loosened on Fel's eyes. "You know what? I feel bad for you. So let's cut to the chase and assign you that high-pri job." A witty smirk pushed up her cheeks as she said this. Rana's ears perked back in place as her eyes returned, confused. "That's a sharp turn." She said suspiciously. "Tell me what I have to do." She turned around, showing her steadfast energy. Fel's playful visage widened, enough to reveal her sharp, catty teeth.

Rana's eyes locked eagerly onto Fel, patiently awaiting her answer. The DemiGoddess' finger poked out in response, wagging it reprimandingly. "Nah-ah-ah, you overgrown newt. Answer my question first." She ordered, flashing a grin. A growl rumbled in her chest as she fought down a roar. "How is that important to you right now?" She asked, visibly annoyed. Felraya simply shrugged. "It's an easy question, with an even easier answer: Yes or no?" She pressed, blinking lackadaisically. Wrought with tension, the Dragoness held back a bitter frown. "No Fel, Wallace and I didn't have sex. Now assign me my job, please. Also, remember that you'll owe me for this!" She said demandingly. Telling off actual Death herself sent a risky zap through her tail. Yet still, irritation somehow won over fear. Regardless, her dwelling glare didn't faze the cat.

"Of course, Rana!" She said with a sketchy, welcoming tone. Her expression dipped into deep thought, fantasizing on scenarios of unknown datum. "Oh yes . . . having a rare servant like you at my command, I'll stay truer to my word than ever. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't excited, just to see what you'll do under my whims." She said in a low tone. With a paw clasping her mouth, she released an impish giggle, practically shaking her figure up and down. Rana's whole body tightened, instinctively in contrast with Fel's cheery antics. Her laughter bounced with an excessive echo this time, as if a wandering spirit's chuckles flooded the desert's depths. An irritated grimace crossed over Rana's face. "I'll only be your pawn, temporarily. Don't think this changes anything!" She rebelled, raising her voice. Sadly, Rana's objections only intensified Fel's amusement, her spectral chuckles amplifying into a double-laugh. Rana blew a deep sigh, rolling her eyes. "Would you just give me the objective already?" She urged coldy.

Fel's chuckles died almost immediately, leaving an eerily sudden glare that seemed to snap towards her with zero transition. "Fine. I'll indulge your obsession." She conceded, folding her arms. "You, Wallace and I will settle these terms later, but only on two conditions." Fel held up two fingers, the air turning cold as her eyes peered into Rana's very soul with unprovoked sternnes. "You will do all that I say, or the deal is off." She listed first and foremost, withdrawing her middle finger. "Second! You'll tell nobody —especially my family— about this mission. If Mother Drakna finds out, she'll kick this old kitten off your planet! Possibly you too." She warned gravely. Rana's face hinted at worry, yet concealing it under stoicism. The slightest look of amusement tugged on her greenly-lit face, unearthing a faded memory from their previous and only excursion. "Of course, Fel. What retrieval is it this century? Another pornographic vase?" She jibed, forcing a plain expression. An awkward silence wedged between them.

Fel's ears flattened, dropping her tail-blade to the floor with a high 'plink'. "No . . ." Her narrowing eyes shifted insecurely. "Shut up. We don't talk about that." She said, wryly grimacing at her. Fel's weightless form casually drifted above the circle of runes next to them. "Explaining will take time. So how about I just show you?" She suggested, pulling an absurdly long scythe from thin air. There was no flash or magic spark. Just a blink in reality as she held out her hand, and there it was, in all it's foul glory. For feasibility's sake, it's size didn't match the statue's miniature counterpart. Felraya heaved it high, promptly plunging her titanic blade between the runes in a fit of showering sparks. Rana flinched, all too cautious of that terrible blade in a fleeting moment of heart-kicking fear. A layer of stone collapsed into a red chasm contained within the arcane circle's boundary, unveiling a flood of scarlet light. From each hollowed eye socket, her scythe's inlaid skulls flashed an equally bloody red. "Get over here. Look into this circle." She gestured casually with her unarmed hand.

As Rana carefully treaded forward, Felraya propped up her scythe. She leaned into it without any support, resting her back against the handle like a tall street lamp. "What does that look like to you?" She inquired, folding her arms. Rana's pupils shrank as she peered into an unidentified abyss. Black and scarlet threads of what seemed to be veins chaotically convulsed, like a interconnected network of writhing, demonic parasites. Many were reminiscent of neurons, while others were thick, like arteries. A perpetual red fog glowed against each interconnected abomination, revealing a fleeting shade of texture against the infected, fleshy caverns. Rana scowled, glaring towards Fel. "Are you showing me Hell?" She asked, visibly confused and annoyed. Felraya scoffed with a snigger. "Don't be dense, Rana. You'd know by memory if this were Hell. This is much different." Each of their eyes reflected the primordial mayhem seizing below, taking a moment to absorb every nightmarish detail.

Their heads drew back automatically, dodging a stray discharge of visceral effluence, flinging past their faces and staining the ground with a sizzling screech. Shivers ran down their bodies, making the fur stick out along their spines. Rana's brow arched in horror, critically glancing at Fel. "Then explain why we're looking at this . . . abomination. Have you finally lost your mind?" She asked, crooking a disgusted look. "Nope, brain is still here! What you're seeing down there is the womb from which an unfathomable entity was rebirthed." She grimly informed. Rana glanced over again, watching Fel's claws playfully pantomime a skulking beast, betraying what she previously thought was genuine solemnity. She frowned, a bit disappointed as Fel continued. "It appeared out of nowhere." She said almost seriously, returning to her typical tone. "It was occupied weeks ago by an unholy freak, uglier than your taste in partners." Rana's head jerked at the remark, glowering at Fel. Her olive eyes sharpened like daggers of spite as the Queen casually summarized. "Me and my Reapers banded together, tried our hardest at preventing it's escape, but no success there." She said in shallow reflection, gritting her teeth.

"That monster possessed one of my strongest commanders, and now they're hiding somewhere in Lurwelk's castle dungeons." She said, pouting. Just recalling the fiasco of a hunt soured her expression. Concerned, Rana noticed the look of embarrassment. "Possessed him?" She questioned, thinking back on Fel's deathless troops. "Fel, I thought your Reapers had perfect bodies." She said worriedly, tilting her head. Felraya nodded, appearing a little frustrated. "They do. Except 'perfect' doesn't mean 'strongest', so I should've just 'Felled' that creature myself." She replied, groaning lightly. Seeing the hidden fear in Rana's eyes, Fel's expression snapped back to it's typical demeanor, smiling carelessly as she spoke. "But hey, at least Commander 'Whisker-Ears' won't get hurt. He'll just need an extra long, fetal-position shower when he returns, and maybe some therapy from my sister." She said dryly, curving a fake smile.

Ignoring Fel's poor nicknaming system, Rana's eyes panned off to the portal, listening as a cacophony of abyssal roars bellowed beneath their feet. They listened for a moment, as guttural, otherworldly noises whitened the background, not saying a word, until Rana broke the awkwardness. "May I ask how you found this?" She asked, punctuated by eldritch gargles as her widening eyes stared down. Fel's silly expression narrowed, getting as serious as she could make it. "We didn't find it. Rather, it found us. For whatever reason, it knew each and every one of our shortcomings and tactical blind spots. I've never seen anything maneuver around my armies so effortlessly." She said, her magmatic eyes seething in quiet reminiscence. Rana looked troubled, her pupils shifting in thought. "That's concerning. Escaping a Reaper —especially hundreds— is unheard of. Do you actually expect me to defeat this monster?" She questioned, a skeptical glance crossing her face.

Fel's tone grew mocking and cynical. "No, Rana. I want you to court the freak, and bring it back home for some love, and a candlelight romance." She retorted, floating closely at level with Rana's deadpanning face. "Besides, that wouldn't be beneath you, right?" She heckled, wryly arching her brow. Having had enough, Rana nearly snapped, only to be cut off before speaking. "C'mon Rana, of course I want you to kill it!" Fel's voice got louder, escalating into a violent tone as her fists clenched tightly around the scythe. "We'll team up and slaughter it together, make a few pretty lampshades out of it's corpse, and I'll be the one to drink it's blood for humiliating me in front of my troops!!" She yelled, picturing her claws wrapped in a vice grip around it's throat. Rana's face twisted into dismay . . . however, not from Fel's violent suggestions. "Team up? So you're telling me, I'll have to endure your nonsense . . . for however long?" She asked, visibly upset. "We should go, right now." She finished sardonically. Her movements hastened, tail whipping along fluidly as she scampered towards the sandy exit.

Hearing no reply, Rana stopped dead in her tracks. Her eyes shifted in question, turning around to glance back at Fel. "Well? Aren't we finished? Let's hurry this along. I'd like to get this over with as soon as possible, if it's all the same to you." She griped jadedly. Felraya didn't budge, whispering something at an unnaturally quiet volume. "Funny. That's what your dad said to me last night." She muttered covertly. When Rana turned around in question, the cat simply gave a naughty smile, waving her hand nonchalantly. "Oh. Don't worry about me." She replied, her voice dropping an octave. "I'll be there, but I'll be seeing you first." She said, leaking a foreboding tone. Having missed whatever she said under her breath, that last sentence alone was enough for darkness to descend over Rana's mind. Her brow arched nervously. "I was under the impression that you'd trek along with me." She said plainly, not exactly upset. Felraya shrugged, revealing a sharp-toothed grin. "Nope! I said we'd 'team up'. That doesn't mean we keep each other on leashes . . ." She gave a raunchy smirk, glancing at her dead in the eyes. "Unless you're into that sort of thing~"

Rana's wing flapped on one side as a disgusted look twisted on her face, unfortunately failing to interject on time. "Alright Fel, that's great. I couldn't possibly indulge in anymore of your amazing jokes, so I'll be leaving now!" She said quickly, spinning around and squatting low, preparing to jump towards the looming sandpit. Fel's expression went bitter, her voice sounding a final time before she could escape. "Hey, Rana! One more thing you need to know!" Her voice blared, catching the Dragoness' attention. Rana turned, aiming a blank expression as she anticipated her final impartings. "Your dad's 'redwood' taste like freshly-cut grass!" She yelled randomly. A sudden shock struck Rana's nerves. With Fel's irreverent suggestions fading into the cavernous air, Rana's body froze temporarily, promptly beginning to shiver with discomfort.

A furious surge of verdant light gathered all around the edge of her maw. Fel's smile quirked rudely. "What's the matter, Rana?" She asked, sympathetically mocking. "Cat got your tongue? Or is that just the daddy issues?" She teased, grinning wickedly. Rana's breathing deepened, steadfast in her persistence. "Fel, why did you feel the need to say that?" She asked with a scathing look. As silence gripped the air, tension sank directly into fear as she watched Fel's tail-scythe flick abruptly, swinging with the typical gestures of a pissy cat. The feline's smile disappeared, switching to a serious expression faster than a bipolar postal worker. "Because, Rana. You're going to drop that shitty attitude, or I'm fucking him again today . . . without protection." She ordered bitchily. Rana cringed, reeling back at the command, eyes glancing behind herself.

'What the Hell?!' Her mind reeled. 'I should've sped out minutes ago! This cat has lost her damn mind!' she thought. Worst part was, now she had to obey that stupid last order as a directive. Fel somehow cut in, disrupting her thoughts. "Oh, it's not about timing, Rana. I would've pulled you back down by your tail until I was finished speaking." She interjected, her voice piercing directly into the confines of her mind. Rana irked, a sinking feeling plummeting from her chest and crashing into her stomach. That sick feeling grew back, reminding her why it ever existed in the first place. "My apologies, Queen Felraya." She forced out, obediently dropping the attitude, as commanded. Her voice was so clear and neutral, anyone listening out of context would've thought she was brainwashed.

Fel chuckled shamelessly. "Thaaat's better! Good girl." She said humorously. Humiliation burned deeply in her face as she stormed hastily towards the exit. Rana cringed again, fighting down a twinge of hurt. She stopped dead in her tracks, pondering in solemnity. After a brief pause, she turned around, staring at Fel silently. Trepidation tightened on her face, until she'd forced herself to speak. "Felraya, if you please, may I be allowed to have an attitude with everyone else?" She asked politely, treading Fel's command like eggshells. A blistering frenzy roared inside her soul. She clamped a muzzle on that fury as well, honoring their agreement with subtle strain in her eyes.

Fel smirked mischievously at her misery, replying in a mirthful tone. "What are you talking about?" She asked, tilting her head. Suddenly her mind dawned, perking up in realization. "—Oh . . ." She pulled a satisfied grin, watching the anxiety slowly drain at Rana's constitution. "Pfft, don't take things so literally, Rana. Of course you can!" She shrugged. A fleeting glance of pity fled the feline's daft veneer. Rana breathed a sigh of relief, painfully listening to her adversary's voice once more. "Gods, we're going to have so much fun, my little 'doe-ragon'~." She cheered eerily, piercing Rana's soul with a brightening pair of hellfire eyes. "I'll give you some time to prepare with Wallace. Let's change our meeting to two days later at Noon. That way, I'll have a plan set. —Sound good?" Fel's question hung in the air as she pointed towards her, nodding. Rana had to pull her eyes back down, preventing them from rolling. "Yes, Queen Felraya, that sounds fine." She replied flatly. Feeling heavier than usual, she focused on the exit. With a wash of relief, Rana's hind legs rushed to push her figure upwards. At last, she finally ditched the obnoxious bully, sparking a transient joy in her chest.

A fizzing splash of sand scattered into the weightless belts, each grain buoyantly bobbing in midair. Felraya's free hand rose, claws curling into a wave. "See you in two days, Rana! We'll meet up, right after I've given your dad a conjugal visit!~" She said in a singsong tone. An ethereal giggle echoed through the cavern, raising Rana's hackles as she attempted to exit. A dramatic 'pop' of green flames lit the nighted desert, sprouting with ease from the sinking funnel of sand. Rana clutched the flatter terrain around it with her elongating wings, pulling upwards; a practical method, by way of shapeshifting her wing's membranes into extra claws. As Rana's sharp toes raked the converging waves of sand, halfway up, she felt her tail snag on something sharp. Initially, her heart sank after a prone jolt, picturing Fel's deathly blade peircing through her appendage. Her feet curled inwards, getting a feel for the object's shape and texture. Thankfully, it felt like sandstone fused with a rough, glassy exterior. She knew the texture by memory. Wondering if her speculations were accurate, her tail curled in, grabbing the object and pulling it out with gingerly precision.

The long formation loosened sooner than expected, suddenly plucking out. Rana crawled out walking on all fours, examining and rotating the rock with her tail in front of her face. Her legs hadn't stopped for anything, beelining towards Wallace's location as she inspected the treasure. Her expanding pupils zoomed in studiously. 'It's fulgurite.' She thought curiously, scanning the specimen with fascination. "Well, aren't I lucky? Better keep this safe." She muttered, pushing it away into a flare of green light. To anyone who would've seen the rock smoldering into oblivion, they might've assumed it'd burned away, particle by particle. In truth, the gnarled silicate of lightning was perfectly intact, now floating weightlessly in a verdant, fiery void. Maybe if things got too quiet, she'd show it to Wallace as an icebreaker; social insurance, so-to-speak.

With the forceful thrust of her haunches, she launched into the heavens, bestrewing sandy clouds in her wake. She flapped and soared, her roaming thoughts drifting along like dandelions. 'Gods, I'm so tired. Oh, Wallace . . . I need your handsome face.' She vented, picturing his golden eyes glistening over a bright smile.

Wallace camped at the forefront of her mind, rent-free with no deposits. Rana's mission was a daunting one, driven by the image of Wallace's smile. She mulled through the plans in her head, like a library of tactical warfare. Nothing would stop her from having the man she loved. Her mind panned back to what Fel had said earlier, ruminating. 'Until noon in two days.' She reminded herself, briskly flapping her wings. Cutting through the wind once more, Rana's form thinned up within a shroud of fire, blemishing cotonny clouds, and tincturing them in a flare of green that brightened the dusk. A resting encampment of Beast-Folk far below caught the flashing anomaly, watching moonlit nimbi flicker with a simultaneous mix of olive, ivy and lime. Even with their keen vision, she was too far up to spot beyond the foamy threshold. "What on Rana was that??" A fox exclaimed; the very same vulpine Rana saw before on a beaten path to Lurwelk.

Leaning into him, an off-white bipedal mountain cat rested her head on his shoulder. She was sound asleep, ears twitching at the reply of someone across them.

"Probably just the foolish humans and their fireworks." A sleek blue reptile replied. He stood with his back towards them, motionlessly watching the quiet woods beyond. Their trio sat perched across two logs set on either side of a flickering campfire. The beige fox smiled without much thought, naively wagging his tail. "Maybe they're having a human party!" He exclaimed with interest. The lizard's turquoise eyes glanced back calmly with his turning head. "Humans spreading pointless chaos at night? –Shocking." He said frigidly. Excited, the fox's swinging tail brushed against his mate's torso repeatedly, causing her eyes to flutter open. She lifted her head off his shoulder, drowsily staring past him into the starry night sky. However, her attention redirected to an oddity within the clouds. Pawing the sleep out of her eyes, her ears folded in question. "Vim, look up. What's that in the sky?" She asked him, leaning up as she pointed.

Their reptilian protector followed her index, joining them with curious eyes. "Our night-vision isn't as keen as yours, Kedra. What do you see?" Asked the lizard. She blinked twice, golden eyes squinting in question. "That huge cloud has a giant bullet-hole running through it." Her finger traced the sight of a distorted aperture aiming diagonally downwards, exiting north into Rethelia. "Bullet hole?" The fox repeated beside her, tilting his ears and head. "Sounds like something big flew through it. You know where it's headed?" He asked, swishing his tail again. Kedra nodded in affirmation, locking on target as her claws followed the messy cut leading downwards. "North, in that direction." She concluded confidently, pointing ahead into the wooded horizon. Arlin's forked black tongue slithered out, retreating back inside his maw with equal speed. "I see . . . It's strange though." He said, glaring up at the sky. "I taste no fireworks. Come to think of it, we never heard anything go off." He added observantly.

Bubbling up with energy, Vim's tail swished about, until he sprung to his feet. "They must've made a new type! Can you track where it landed, Kedra?" He turned towards his mate, glimmering a pair of hopeful eyes. Arlin interjected before she could answer. "Absolutely not! Second-to-last time you 'investigated' something, we ended up being chased through Rethelia by wild wolves." He complained, aiming a stone-cold glare. Kedra's tailtip flicked defensively, somewhat perturbed. "Let me answer, Arlin." She rebuked, shifting back to Vim. "It should be fine, as long as we keep hidden." She assured, eyes switching to the reptile. "Arlin, you're the best sneak between the three of us. Why don't you lead the way?" She suggested, gesturing her hand towards the lizard. He sighed in response, leaving them in suspense as they drew closer. Then to their surprise, his head lifted, answering regrettably. "Fine . . . We'll go. But only to exhaust that surplus energy of yours. That way, I can get some sleep tonight." He replied, ambling forward. The fuzzy couple smiled at one another, then thankfully back at Arlin. "Let's waste no time then." Kedra replied, propelling Vim's tail with her words.

Meanwhile, far away, above the same endless forest, Rana's tail caught around the top of a massive redwood, her wings pushing against the air to decelerate. Her current form weighed as light as pasteboard, bursting into flames due to the rushed speed of her transformation. She burned with a bright viridescence, shrinking into a small, fiery oval of light. Aviary faculties fizzed into shape, forming feathers, talons and a razor-sharp hook at the terminus of its beak. Horns sprouted from the owl's head as it cast a luminous green stare upon the towering sentinels of Rethelia's redwoods. Rana stayed there, perched and waiting patiently, never sleeping a second in her nocturnal state. Some would call it obsession . . . but Rana's ambitions ran far deeper than petty stalking. Hidden by the arboreal expanse, she strained herself desperately, forcing her eyes to change a piercing yellow.

Rana's unyielding gaze caught every ant and spider skittering near Wallace's abode. Despite the sensory overload, her ears became attuned to every subtle rustle and timid rodent. Wolves, wildlife, Beast-Folk, humans, Damius, Felraya, even cosmic abominations . . . it didn't matter who or what. Nobody and nothing would harass him under her watchful presence. She'd make sure of that, even if the sky boiled over into Hell itself. His safety came first and foremost. Her avian features softened, deepening into sinking thoughts of Wallace. 'If only he knew. If only I could tell him . . . just why I love him so much.' She thought longingly, staring down into the forested abyss, keeping the cabin's reflection contained within a pair of giant yellow dinnerplates for eyes.

As time passed from minutes into hours, Rana's guard never lowered. With steadfast vigilance this strong, even the most loyal of guardian angels might've tossed their halos down in secession, cursing Rana's dedication. However, unlike an angel, Rana wasn't perfect. Having fallen victim to her transformation's instincts, she'd unwittingly succumbed to slumber at the break of dawn. As consequence, hours were lost on her. And so, time snuck by, taking advantage of her lonely dreams.

Aside from the antics of dreams, Wallace was later greeted by a fresh morning breeze slithering out from underneath his door. Dead leaves fell scarcely past his window as the wind sped to a steady billow. Nature's transition into summertime flaunted itself that morning; countless flowers had matured into fruits since last month, while an abundance of fawns and fledgling birds were beginning to trek out unsupervised. Despite nature's serene music, it still wasn't hard to hear the steady crackles of leaves under a trespasser's footsteps. The consecutive 'crunch' of forest debris brought a twitch to Wallace's sensitive ears. Just like that, nature's serenity reversed into a silent wilderness brimming with danger. Cautiously ducking for cover under the window's view, he listened near his door for other subtleties. Whoever they were, it was clearly a male human, telling by the audibly distinct weight and width of each flat crunch. They were boots; a fine hiking variety, telling by the sounding undertones of secure leatherwork.

With there being a potential trespasser, there was no time for flashbacks. However, Wallace's drowsy brain had other ideas, making a game of resurfacing cherished memories as the footsteps grew clearer with proximity. 'Grandpa Wally' wore similar sized boots, akin to the sound pattering behind the door. He shook away the memories of grandpaps tinkering around his woodshop, coming out with a newly made toy each time. As it used to be, father was out working at a local gallery for painters, while Auntie Berna chiseled away at her sculptures. They were an art family. The innocent two-year-old would wait at the living room door with anticipation, ready to sunnily greet whoever came through. However, current-day Wallace waited at the door in stark contrast, cautiously readying his shotgun for what he believed was a theif. A mix of danger and melancholy instilled the air with tension, dissolving his pleasant memories.

Instead of a jostling doorknob, he was met with an abrupt rapping, followed by a familiar voice. "Wallace Burgundy? It's Damius, from Darm's! I have your new shotgun!" He said. They both gave pause on either side. His eyes shifted in question, pressing an ear against the door. "Already?" Wallace narrowed a look of skepticism, stubbornly staying inside. He raised his voice over the locked door. "It's been less than a day! A shotgun takes months or more!" He said, arching his brow suspiciously while taking a step back from the window. An impatient groan rattled through the door. "Right, Darm told me you were paranoid." His tone fell, somewhat bothered while taking a long breath. "If I were a burglar wanting to break in, I would've been done by now. Could you just open up?" He droned. Wallace thought about it for a moment, reluctantly turning the handle and creaking open the door. He peeked cautiously outside, his unblinking eyes climbing along a tall trenchcoat. He noticed something different about the shapeshifter's appearance, flashing an inquisitive look. 'Did Damius . . . grow, since last time?' He thought.

Wallace scanned Damius head to toe again, discerning a five inch difference since their last meeting. Like Rana, he exuded a sort of covertness, not through open appearance, but in every micro-expression and action. His arm extended, reaching out with the barrel of a shotgun perpendicular in his hand. "Here. Darm was pretty invested in this one, so it got done way sooner, especially with my help." He explained. Wallace gave a puzzled look, carefully taking the gun. A look of trepidation crossed his face as Rana's forewarnings echoed in his mind: 'we can be unparalleled in our persuasion and cunning'. Her words resonated. Damius tilted his head, curiously glancing down at the wary young lad. "What's with that bored look? Go on, tell me what you think!" He gestured towards the gun, before calmly pocketing his hands and waiting expectantly. Wallace frowned, a tinge of uncertainty wriggling in his belly.

He weighed the object in his arms, taking note of its exceptional lightness. It threw physical laws to the wind, feeling denser than most guns as he gave the barrel a good squeeze. Wallace's eyes reflected in the chrome exterior, spotting glints of iridescence within the metal. "I forged most of it myself, since Darm didn't have the equipment to melt the material." Damius said, shrugging as he smiled humorously. "He's been ranting about it all day." He explained, nearly chuckling. Wallace couldn't help but crack a smile, remembering the dramatic way Darm would explode at his own mistakes. The nostalgic memories made it that much funnier, until he snapped himself back to reality, realizing he'd been effectively charmed. Embarrassed, Wallace's hand clenched the door. "Thanks. Now leave." He suddenly said, his tone wavering nervously. Damius snickered at the unwelcoming burn. "Well, that was kind of catty." He smugly remarked.

Before the door could fully close, a fleck of anger flickered in Wallace's eyes. A deadpan expression narrowed on his face, peaking through the sliver of space. "What's that supposed to mean?" Wallace griped, his voice dropping an octave. Damius cocked his eyebrows nonchalantly. "I said 'catty'. I owned a cat before. She was real timid towards strangers, but she loved close friends and family." He compared, peering at him directly. Wallace remained silent, unamused and glaring. "Look, I'm just saying, you're being a bit salty. Don't you at least wanna test this thing out with me?" He offered, his thumb pointing over his shoulder and into the outdoors. Wallace eyed the shotgun with intrigue, spotting a peculiar lens equipped on the side. 'What the hell's that doing on a short-range gun?' He thought, perplexed. "Is this a scope? . . . For a shotgun??" He asked critically, glancing back up at him.

Damius nodded. "There's that feline curiosity." His words flowed charismatically. "I'll demonstrate how it works, but only if you test it out with me." He offered, crooking a smirk. Wallace felt himself mentally backing into a corner. 'Is there any way out of this?' He pondered, realizing Damius was the only means of knowing how and if his gun really worked well. Darm's weapon delivery service guaranteed functional products, and a customary testing session to ensure safety. Frustrated, Wallace flung open the door, almost swinging it into the window. A disgruntled look crossed his face as he glared up at him. "Fine, let's make this quick." He said, groaning under his breath. Damius cracked a somewhat guilty, half-mischievous smile. "Attaboy. Let's try out those targets over there." He said, pointing out into the woods. Wallace's mouth hung curiously, sternly narrowing his brow as he followed Damius' finger.

To his surprise, rows of targets hung down impossibly from the tops of multiple redwoods, each slowly rotating several feet off the ground by thin red threads. Wallace watched them inching to and fro in the soft breeze, bewildered. Those threads must've stretched at least a hundred yards high! His eyes widened, until Damius let out a chuckle. "You should've seen how long it took me to set this up!" He pinched the air with his fingers, speaking innocently. "I came this close to falling, twice! Here I am, risking my life for some target training, and you can't be bothered to get out of your own house!" He said jokingly, a mirthful undertone leaking from his voice. Damius' prideful grin put a deadpan look on Wallace's face. Their eyes alone spoke multiple words; a silent conversation that poked and prodded him in his own mind.

An array of unanswered questions hung idly in the back of his head, cheifly regarding the shotgun. Not only was Rana absent, but what, now suddenly Damius finished his order . . . after a day? And Darm couldn't? Ridiculous. Who would beleive that? "Hey, hold on a second!" Wallace interposed, sternly stepping in front of him. "Explain how you did this!" He flashed a suspicious glare as he presented the shotgun. Damius didn't even blink, lightly pushing him aside and ambling into the woods. "Trademark secret, kid." He said dismissively, leisurely strolling towards the hanging targets. "If I told you, Darm could fire me. Even if I did save his life, he might revert me back to 'non-privileged' worker status . . . and I know where that'll land me." He said, laced with a sigh. "In any case, you wouldn't understand either way. It's an advanced craft that most people aren't really educated about."

Damius' gaze fixed forward as they walked. As Wallace followed, he noticed the glint of something metallic wedged inside an abandoned squirrel den next to him. With his extra-added height, Damius reached inside until his elbow disappeared. Clinks of metal sounded as he rummaged through, finally pulling out a peculiar stone box. With it roughly being the size of Wallace's head, he flashed an inquisitive look. "There it is!" Damius announced, lifting it excitedly. "Can't believe it's not covered in crap!" He exclaimed, rotating the plain gray cube in his hands. Blowing off a cloud of mahogany dust, he pried open the container, revealing several gleaming rounds of shotgun ammo packed inside. Wallace tilted his head, clearly concerned. "Just how long have those been in there?" He asked, pointing to the shells. "About five months, maybe?" He shrugged, repeatedly catching an unused bullet in his hand. Wallace flashed a rhetorical look. "You were here five months ago, hiding shotgun rounds in a tree?" He asked, arching his brow skeptically.

Damius nodded deniably. "More the other way around, actually. There's secrets in these woods no human could ever imagine." He claimed, scooping out a palmful of shells and handing them over. "I don't like easily giving away good information, so I'll tell you what, kiddo," His arms extended outwards, gesturing to the painted red circles hanging off each string. "Hit all these targets from forty-five yards away, and I'll tell you one of Rethelia's deepest secrets." A self-satisfied smirk curved over his lips. The feeling wasn't mutual as Wallace tightened his fists, glowering up at Damius. "Forty-five yards!? This better be one hell of a shotgun!" He whinged, all-the-while, deftly loading the chamber. Damius scoffed as he poised himself. "Not with that attitude. You'll waste your chance if you're already doubting yourself." He lectured proudly. Wallace deadpanned hard, wishing a target were painted over Damius. He measured the terrain in long, drawn out steps, stopping a precise distance away.

Grumbling under his breath, Wallace stood at the agreed distance. His arms lifted the barrel as steadily as possible, which proved difficult on account of the weapon's sheer lightness. He visualized the gun's minimal mass collaborating with the intense firepower, realizing its level of recoil could pack a massive punch. He'd have to get used to the weight difference. Preparing his shoulder for a tender black bruise, Wallace cocked the weapon. His eyes glanced over the safety before gently squeezing the trigger. An explosion of sound cracked the wind, blasting his target into smithereens. The target scattered into oblivion, almost bursting to dust . . . but as his ears rang, something else didn't quite make sense: Firstly, he questioned the reality of his target shattering at such a distance, looking down puzzled at the mess of dusty porcelain. 'Did that really just happen?' He thought, rotating the shotgun for a thorough inspection. His eyes widened with shock, blown away at the realization of having zero recoil.

"I don't understand . . . What the fuck was that!?" He asked with borderline elation. Carefully, he flicked on the safety and took the ammo out, before staring down into the barrel. Letting a sliver of daylight shine through, he detected no dark stains or charred remnants. There was no burnt gunpowder, no residue from the shotgun shell, and no fouling from the primer. It was cleaner than a noble's kitchen, practically gleaming in Wallace's face. Damius chuckled, his arms folding as he observed amusedly, leaning against a tree. "Well, shit! I guess my craftsmanship is too perfect for my own good! I might just lose this bet." He admitted, giving a sly smirk. Wallace rolled his eyes, ignoring Damius' arrogance as he keenly focused on the next target. "Alright, c'mon." Wallace muttered quietly, incidentally glancing through the scope. For a moment, his eyes brushed past the lens in front of him, at first certain something had moved inside, but he shrugged it off. This led him to keep glancing through, prolonging the waiting period. Focusing took time, but his concentration broke as Damius' voice interrupted.

"I've lived millenias waiting for a lot, kid, but this is ridiculous. I have to get back to work soon." He pestered impatiently, his tone betraying a forbearing expression. A prickle of anger stung over Wallace's face. Suddenly, in a tempered series of abrupt movements, he pulled the trigger multiple times, loud bangs punctuating the destruction of each shattering circle in several rows. It was like hearing multiple bombs go off, scattering broken material one after the other. Even after there obliteration, his focus never waned. Damius had practically watched in slow motion, his eyes widening as shards dispersed in every direction. In less than four seconds, each bullet had decimated every target flawlessly, causing him to unfold his arms, standing speechlessly as his face fell plain. By the time everything laid broken, a trail of smoke danced from the barrel's exit. A soft ring wavered in each of their ears. "Damn!" Wallace exclaimed, blowing the smoke away. "You know, Damius, maybe you are too good at smithing for your own good." He admitted, nodding in approval at his new gun.

"Well, I didn't expect that to work so well." Damius confessed, scratching his head. His tone was a bit more humbled and quiet than before, walking up to him reluctantly. "Plus, you're likely the first Beast-Folk hybrid to have a shotgun made by a Dragon, if you consider that a bonus." He added. Despite being aware of his deliberate flattery, Wallace's ego was affectively buttered. "As a matter a fact, I do." He said with satisfaction. Damius snickered lightly, patting the white dust off his trenchcoat. "Alright," his arms fell laxly, capitulating to their agreement. "I gave you my word". A spark of anticipation glimmered in Wallace's eyes. With a beckoning hand, Damius gestured him to draw closer. Wallace receptively obliged, letting him cuff a hand towards his ear. "Just to be certain . . . you do know that I'm a Dragon, right?" He asked, sounding a bit unsure. Wallace nodded, narrowing an awkwardly quiet look. "Yeah, I do. But that's no secret to me." He answered casually.

Damius let go of his breath, as if relieved by his answer. "Good, just making sure. Rana must've told you, then." He said placidly, his shoulder loosening. Wallace's head tilted, glancing up. "Why? Is that a good thing?" He asked. Damius shrugged carelessly. "I thought you'd figured me out, but I wasn't really sure. The uncertainty's a pain in the ass for me. Same goes for a lot of Dragons." He replied, thinking back in irritation.

"Speaking of which, now that you've violently murdered those targets, I guess I'll have to reveal Rethelia's secret now." He reminded. His head and eyes scanned the trees, scrupulously darting around for onlookers. Wallace's eyes widened with glints of excitement, leaning in to receive his forbidden knowledge. Damius' face reverted back to normal, entering a whisper as he grasped his shoulder, slowly closing distance with Wallace's ear. With how faint it was, he had to hold his breath just to discern every word. "Find a lonely tree-hole, or a vacant clearing. Ask the woods for something within reason, and it might fulfill your request the next day you return." He pulled away from his ear, receiving an eyeful of skepticism. Wallace's finger pointed into the dark squirrel's nest, replying blankly. "So if I ask this hole to give me gun-oil, I'll find it in there the next morning?" He asked, folding his arms.

"Maybe sooner, depending on the time. Right now it's morning, so you might get it by nightfall." He answered matter-a-factly. "Why do I always have trouble believing this stuff?" He questioned, shooting a skeptical stare. Damius turned around, ambling off nonchalantly. "Doesn't matter wether you believe it or not. Test it out yourself. You'll see." He shrugged, casually grabbing and pocketing a round of casings. "I'll make new bullets out of these babies. I've gotta return before I'm late. See ya soon, Waldo." Wallace's eyes narrowed. "Waldo?" He replied aggressively. "It's Walla-" an abrupt gust of hot air nearly knocked him back a foot. At first, Damius' departure flared with a smoldering warm glow; flowing not with fire, but liquid streams of molten hot matter, each serpentine rope flinging a series of intense heatwaves through the air. The amorphous mass stretched, like countless glowing snakes striking towards a single point, only to merge into one massive body.

It's form melded into the bulk of a flying Dragon, with fiery patterns of carnelian running through his body like a warm spectrum over canvas. As he passed the treetops at five-hundred feet, a terrifying sound split the air. 'BOOM!' Wallace nearly jumped two feet, screaming in the process. After the explosion, he couldn't see Damius, or whichever direction he took. A vague ringing resonated inside his ears as taller trees swayed. Stunned, Wallace rubbed his ears, attempting to ease the discomfort. "What the hell was that . . ?" He muttered in stillness, gawking up at the explosion's former location. He noted with curiosity that the impactive sound had come shortly after Damius took off, instead of right on point. "What kind of Dragon is he . . ?" He whispered, trying to define the blurry picture in his head. A shade of disappointment crept over him, knowing he couldn't get a good look at the rest of Damius' true form. Wallace only recalled the vague, warm-colored patterns obscured by otherworldly agility.

He held his new shotgun in both hands, silently contemplating his life . . . also pondering the facets of a reality that formerly made sense. 'Why Dragons?' He wondered, wracking his brain. In those soundless woods, the rest of that morning was uneventful, though not necessarily boring. Thanks to a certain weapon, entertainment came in consecutive 'blams', splitting the air after he'd stalked a roaming trio of plump flightless birds. Despite keeping himself at broad distances, the weapon's scattershot spanned in smaller peripheries with each resounding blow. Hits landed smoothly without fail, and just like that, Wallace had dinner. Due to obliteration, their heads were swept clean off in far less than a second. 'Rest In Peace, my friends.' He thought, regrettably glancing over their lifeless corpses.

Ironically, hunting was the only gun-related activity he considered a chore. Even so, Wallace's achievements invited a sense of accomplishment. However, at the same time, a lonesome ache pestered his chest until noon. Some other part of him felt pathetic, knowing he missed Rana so dearly, despite being apart for less than a day. Besides, he wasn't going to eat three large birds all by himself. He felt compelled to repay her somehow, for all that she'd done for him. As he stirred a pot of bone-broth, his inexistent tail rose, brought to euphoria in pondering everything she'd given him, why his life was on the incline, and overall . . . why he wasn't a pile of bones buried beneath the earth right now. Wallace felt a sting of inadequacy, looking down at the stew as he stirred, clenching his teeth with dissatisfaction. His arms flung up. "Unbelievable!" He griped at the pot. "What did she use?" He asked himself, remembering the venison she'd cooked back in that cave; those haunches were spiced to perfection, unlike the floating slop he had boiling over the cabin fireplace.

"It looks like dogfood!" He complained, barely at the cusp of a tantrum. Expectations hadn't carried him far. His endeavors were for naught, and Rana could be back at any moment, catching him with this . . . pig-feed. "Damnit!" He exclaimed, kicking the cauldron aggressively. The dense metal sent a jolt of pain through his toe, making him wince. He held his breath, wrestling with a flood of vulgarities. Before the first vowel left his lips, a sudden knock sounded at the door. A bit overwhelmed, Wallace rushed over to the window in a panic, only to be met with confusion. Nobody was outside. However, what he did see were three glass jars set in rows along the porch's steps, each filled with familiar contents. They looked like spices. A sense of foreboding hung over him, assuming this had to be a trap. Suspicion flooded every movement as he reached under the bed for his shotgun. Sneaking over towards the door, his heart was overrun by instinct. Cracking it open, Wallace's hands quickly jolted out, sliding the jars towards himself.

He kept the shotgun's barrel wedged between the door's open space, just in case an intruder jumped out. Waiting a while, his eyes shifted back and forth, brushing past nothing but the ordinary presence of towering redwoods. His nose sniffed the air, but detected no scent, aside from the vague smell of rich herbs and spices. "That was wierd." He said suspiciously. He rose his brow before scanning left and right, promptly retreating back into the cabin. Inspecting the equally sized jars, he read a series of white labels stamped across them. "Merritolm, silverseed, and polytruffle." He read aloud, squinting in bemusement. 'What are these?' He wondered, popping the corks and gleaning there scents. From smell alone, he could tell nothing was wrong with them. In fact, his nose detected hints of gourmet-quality ingredients; culinary aromas he'd seldom smelt in Lurwelk's Castle District as a boy.

"Wow," He uttered, impressed, taking in deep breaths of the fragrance. "It's so rich! Especially this . . . 'silverseed' spice." He said, pronouncing it slowly. On impulse, he felt compelled to keep inhaling it. With a glance towards the cauldron, he smiled cheerfully. "Now we're getting somewhere!" He exclaimed victoriously. There was a certain eeriness to it, however. Had Damius heard his complaints, and decided to assist him out of pity? Or had Rana arrived already, just . . . watching as usual? The subject faded out of mind as he weighed the jars, each curve filling out his entire palm. Dumping in half of each was enough to bring an astounding smell to the stew. Stirring it slowly, his pupils began to widen upon adding more of the ingredients. "By the Gods. Rana's going to love this!" He spouted in an acclaiming voice. His mixture took roughly an hour to cook and stir, getting better by the minute.

Every time Wallace brought the ladle to his lips, his eyes would spring agog in disbelief. With each taste-test, he didn't think it could get any better, yet ultimately proved himself wrong, with one jolt of profound flavor after another. At the point his mixture stopped improving, he gave it a scan, standing back and grinning proudly. "Finally, it's finished." He said exhaustedly, with residual energy to spare. It was hard to remember the last time he'd been so exhilarated by cooking, if ever at all. The only thing left now, was to let it cool. He didn't know if Rana was supposed to be back by now, or if he'd heard the wrong time. Thankfully, five minutes later as Wallace recuperated, a leafy gust marked her arrival, juddering his window. 'She's here!' His thoughts exclaimed. "Hopefully she likes it." He muttered in accomplishment, looking meekly towards the cauldron. With an elegant gait, Rana's impressive figure ambled around his cabin on all fours, regally lowering a luminous green stare.

Her unmuffled voice called from behind his porch window before tapping on the glass. "Wallace? I'm so sorry I'm late!" She announced guiltily. Her illuminant green eyes stood out against the circles of dancing sunlight, filtered through branches of inching leaves. He glanced back, before jolting eagerly towards the door. Rana's worried eyes widened a tad, her nostrils catching an enticing aroma drifting from the abode. She concentrated on a rich, nutty smell, staggered by familiarity through hints of herbs, meats and gormet fungi. The misty concoction spread a confused smile over her face. 'Where have I smelled this before?' She mused. Her mind cut through time, recalling the fleeting fragrance of ancient childhood. Rana's musings were halted by a swinging door hurling towards her face. Thankfully it stopped just in time with Wallace's hand. Otherwise, her unbreakable complexion might've splintered the door. "It's alright, Rana! Actually, it's kind of a good thing you're late. I needed time to finish something." He admitted, quirking a faint smile.

His assurances erased a residue of Rana's shame, adding to the silver lining of enticing smells. The ever increasing aroma intensified with every step, beckoning her olfactory senses. "Whatever it is, it smells wonderful." She replied, concentrating as her nose sniffed the air in enjoyment. He placed his palm gently on her neck, guiding her inside with a subtle push. "C'mon, come in and taste it." He urged, eager to watch her elegant bulk amble inside. Rana's eyes settled upon the homey display of exotic meats and gourmet ingredients submerged in rich bone-broth. After a moment of staring, his face bore a tint of embarrassment. "It's not much, but I wanted to thank you for everything you've done for me. So as a start, I scavenged some ingredients and cooked them up for you." He elaborated, looking up with a hopeful glint. Rana's eyes glowed with an immaterial sentiment, reflecting his fervent face.

His endearing ways tugged on Rana's cheeks. For what small fraction of deer genetics she had, her tail swayed with approval, heart thrumming at his caring eyes. Beneath that regal exterior, her heart melted like a summer snowflake, struggling to slow itself. "Wallace, that's so thoughtful." She paused a moment, getting another sniff of the cauldron's contents. "It smells so . . . familiar too." She extolled, masking her inquiry with a calm façade. Rana's cervine ears twitched at the unexpected sound of purring emanating from Wallace's throat. Apparently, despite arriving egregiously late, her praises were enough to invoke that latent instinct. The pleasant rumble reverberated from his throat, nearly making her snicker. Rana lunged forward, her claws snatching him into a loving embrace, whilst burning away enough of her mass to accommodate the cabin's size.

Wallace's arms swung up, wrapping longingly around her neck. They stood there for a moment, with his fingers curling into soft, down-fused fur. Rana beamed affectionately, nestling into his kneading touch. Her affable presence made him swear the air's temperature was rising. That, along with all five senses gaining extra lucidity from her booming heartbeat. It was like hearing boulders crash a mile away. The intriguing sound was cut off by a closer blast of noise, emerging inopportunely . . . 'THUNK!' Wallace jumped at the sound of something slamming against his cabin window; Rana's tail swished behind her, sticking out from the open threshold. The loud bang had him dreading at first, assuming someone must've spotted them. With diminishing fear, he sighed in relief, chuckling lightly as he covered a hand over his chest. "Fuck, that scared me." He said breathily.

An empathetic smile curved on her face. "Sorry, Wallace. I got excited." She said. Her neck craned back enough to touch the ceiling, connecting with his golden eyes. "Over the stew?" He questioned. Her loving gaze reciprocated a smile. "That as well." She replied softly, taking her thumb-claw and raking it over his hair. Red heat suffused his cheeks as Rana's visage filled out his vision. A moment of mirth punctuated their doting gazes, tinctuirng his blond head with her ocular green glow. She fully stepped in, her form gradually shrinking at a slow enough rate, proceeding so subtly, he hadn't noticed the change occur in plain sight. "You're in for another surprise, Wallace. I brought something nice." She said, tracing a white claw along his neck. It trailed down until her large palm settled on his shoulder.

Wallace brushed a curious glance at her. Her smirk went playful as his eyes nervously followed the digit. "Is that so? . . . What are you doing?" He asked. She gave a look of faux inquiry. "Strange. What's this inside your ear?" She asked, concealing a clever grin. Her claws pinched something beyond his peripheral sight. "Inside my ear?" He questioned, arching his brow. The moment her wrist pulled away, a mild surge of green embers bathed against his features. Wallace winced in bewilderment as his eyes locked onto a gnarled object; what appeared to be a stretch of hardened sand elongating from thin air. An adoring smile crossed his face as he realized what Rana was doing. "Oh, hehe, I see!" He said mirthfully. Rana's laugh hummed calmly after, tapping the silicate over the floorboards with a dull 'thud'. Much to Wallace's awe, she presented the rock regally, rising upright and holding it like a branching staff.

"Since you're a nature boy, I thought this might intrigue you. This is a type of natural glass, formed when lightning strikes the desert." She informed, handing over the solid specimen. Wallace's arms held the lightweight formation with ease, curiously feeling it over with his thumbs. "Woah . . . did you buy this?" He asked, inspecting its rough features.

"I found it. Merchants in Gargoyle call it a fusion of the lands and heavens. They'll pay you generous coin for it." She replied, watching his pupils scan up its features with wonder. "By the Gods, Rana, this is incredible!" He exclaimed. His awed expression trailed up the rock, until reaching Rana's eyes. His brows parted as he curved a guilty smile. "Well, if it were a gift-giving contest, you'd be the winner." He said sheepishly, his grin turning somber, glancing shamefully towards the iron cauldron. Rana snickered calmly. "There's no contest. Either way, it's the thought that counts. I'm not a material girl by any means, so your gift gets a perfect ten." She assured. Her sunny smile brightened the room, until her nose twitched with interest, redirected by the scent of herbal steam. With all of this talk about food, she was beginning to work up an appetite. With every inhale, her nose gravitated to the gormet aroma, inevitably pulled by its tantalizing scent. It's contents smelled professional, kindling her look of surprise.

Rana inhaled above the boiling concoction, her eyes placidly closing in nostalgic reminiscence. A heartfelt warmth blossomed into foggy memories of ancient paintings; red markings adorning the interior of an oceanic cave. A beloved and nostalgic voice echoed within her mind. Rana's eyes went wide, an epiphany crawling up her nose as a sudden tital wave of tenebrous memories submerged her. A half-second flash revealed a young boy, at least ten years of age, with tan skin and dark hair. He was painted in scarlet tribal markings, proudly holding up a fine stew similar to this one, except contained in a rugged stone bowl. Rana recalled loving the dish so much, she wouldn't have anything else for decades. "Oh . . . that aroma." Rana muttered, hazily turning over to Wallace. He felt increasingly lighter the moment she smiled at him. That joyful look enraptured him with a heavy, dreamlike glint in her eyes. "Wallace, this is sublime." She extolled, closing her eyes in bliss. "You have everything balanced out perfectly. Please, let me share it with you." She said, urgently sweeping her tail against his side.

Wallace's face twisted with hesitation, awkwardly blinking twice. "Hold on, Rana, it's not for me. I've already eaten." He denied, his expression gesturing towards the shotgun. "It took hours hunting out in the woods. Cooking this for you was the hardest part. Plus, you're a Dragon, so you'll need a lot more." He insisted, tussling against a worried frown. Rana's smile fell halfway, partially fading into a stern gaze. Faded memories of ancient human hunts drifted through her mind like floating clouds. Back then, they'd take mere minutes to land game, and with little to kill with, but sharp rocks fastened to sticks. Regardless, his kind gesture kicked her heart into overdrive, triggering a gentle surge of emotions. An aggressive yet benevolent rumble shook the air. Somewhat frightened, he stepped back as she squinted at him. "It's your gift to me . . . to whom you've relinquished ownership. So as owner, I choose to share it with you." She demanded, quaking his walls with the thud of her tail. Her forthright assertions gave him pause, adding the slightest tincture of fear to an overall expression of awe.

Just as the moment was lost, her placid demeanor returned in the form of a smile. "Besides, you can't lie to me. My nose tells me you've eaten very little." She informed, playfully poking his stomach with her tailtip. Wallace's cheeks flushed pink as he uttered a faded grumble. Rana didn't know it, but her earlier absence rendered him too depressed for breakfast or lunch. An unspoken fear made his belly sore. The attachment wasn't healthy, and he knew it. Thinking about her was too easy; thinking about her leaving forever was ten times so. Besides, everyone he knew was either gone or scarce, making thoughts of abandonment just a few flashbacks away. He casually propped the gifted strand of fulgurite against a bare corner, vaguely livening up his home. A wash of verdant flames roared, interrupting his lonely visions as Rana's figure altered into an amorphous ball of fire. In-turn, the shapeless green torrent changed into a petite lady. He uncovered his eyes as virid embers scattered off her human form like a show of glittering fireworks.

This lass was considerably smaller than her last persona, yet still flaunting the same auburn hair and outstanding green eyes. Rana turned, looking towards him as she blinked, exuding a natural womanly charm . . . if it weren't for a fuzzy tail still swaying in back of her, becoming thinner as it curled beneath the curve of a reddish clay bowl. "I'll be able to indulge all-the-better using this stature. I just love that 'full feeling' you get afterwards." She explained, smirking playfully. Wallace stifled a chuckle, growing extremely red for . . . reasons. "Your innuendos are getting subtler." He joked back, returning a likened smile. However, something seemed off with his mannerisms. His expression grew increasingly anxious as he faced her. Rana's human visage squinted in faux offense, wryly nodding at him. "Inuendos? I was just talking about the food." She said, feigning concern. Wallace chuckled, cheeks burning as he grabbed the ladle, spooning several servings of hearty stew into her bowl. "Sure you were." He said saucily.

A quietness came between them, tuning into the muffled song of chirping birds outside. Standing awkwardly for long enough, Wallace broke the silence with a question. "Hey, Rana, do you know what usually goes great with a hot dinner?" He asked, now visibly searing at his cheeks. Her head tilted innocently, eyes oblivious as she stared at him. "What?" She asked cluelessly. Wallace pointed down, face still overwhelmed with a blush. "Wearing clothes." He answered. His visage barely held a serious look together. Looking down nonchalantly, Rana didn't blush. In fact, she shrugged without a care in the world, blinking towards him with her piercing emerald circles. "I didn't bring a dress." She explained plainly. Wallace's eyes shifted, recurrently looking away, then directly back at her with fickle indecision. "And you're fine with sitting here, eating dinner with me . . . completely nude?" He asked, arching his brow.

Rana shrugged again, smiling empathetically. "I'm a Dragon." She said frankly. Recalling how panicked he felt the first time she'd gone nude, Wallace scratched his head for a moment, eventually feeling a bit silly. All it took was some brief thought, and some common sense. "Right, sorry. Dumb question." He dismissed, quirking a crooked grin. "Either way, let me lend you something to wear." He offered politely. Her answer came immediately. "No." She sternly declined, staring in defiance. Wallace's attention lagged, preventing him from immediately hearing her answer. That one word shot into Wallace's ears like an arrow, making his eyes widen. His body turned around, staring at her with a bewildered gape. ". . . What?" He meekly managed to ask. Her tone grew clearer, this time diverting from the subject. "When I finish eating this stew, I'm taking you someplace special; an area I'll bet you haven't seen before." She answered, much to his bewilderment.

Wallace narrowed a partial gawk. "Okay? What does that . . . have to do with clothes?" He questioned. Despite her current bareness, she angled her head, aiming a refined simper. "You'll see." She replied fondly. Rana's thinned tail oscillated in languid motions, her luminous eyes piercing into his. The stew below her shouldn't have smelled so wonderful. Its rich steam called to her, beckoning her arms to indulge. Lifting her spoon up, Rana's lips parted around a mix of shredded game intertwined with balanced herbs and potent spices. Flashes of the tribal boy returned before it even hit her tastebuds. However, that was before the broth flowed down her throat, igniting memories through sheer taste alone. A flood of memories tore at the redwood, peeling away chip by chip, until each casting splinter revealed a series of fluid, caustic patterns; water's bright refraction writhed over a bluish cavern wall.

"How is it, Rana? Taste good?" Asked the young boy. The lad's short stature resembled that of a pygmy, looking up at her with hopeful brown eyes. Younger Rana's expression beamed, laced with surprise. "Grellus, it's amazing! I've never tasted anything like this!" She extolled, eagerly horking down pounds of cooked meat and mushrooms. As she glutted herself with approval, the young'un jerked his head, flopping a bothersome dreadlock to the side. A proud smile stretched over his tan face. "Only possible for the best cook and hunter in Rethelia." He smugly boasted, hands gesturing to himself. While arrogant, Grellus' pride wasn't unwarranted. A series of charcoal tattoos studded his forearm, abundantly marking an array of arduous achievements. She was seeing them all over again, yet so clearly this time, leaving her an inch close to tears.

A heavy ocean of nostalgia weighed over her current reality, submerging everything in profound clarity; from their cavernous, saturated tunnels, to the rhythmic swish of ocean waves, to every breath of humid, salty air. They stood within a carved watery beachside cave, as she took bowl after bowl, devouring Grellus' offering. A snarky grimace spread over his face as she dug into the bowl. "What was it you said before, about Dragons cooking better than humans?" He asked, smugly folding his arms. Rana wasn't paying attention, licking her chops clean of the gormet meal. Grellus nodded, squinting his eyes. "Rana?" He called again. His voice rose, trying to catch her attention. "Hey, Ranaaaa! Did you hear me?" His fingers snapped in front of her occupied muzzle. "Hey, world to Rana! Are you okay?" Wallace asked, beginning to look worried. Midway through drinking the broth, she'd frozen like a deer.

A tinge of oncoming guilt rose in Wallace's chest. 'Oh Gods, maybe I messed it up.' He thought, his mind dreading in silence. As if time unpaused, Rana snapped back to awareness, resuming the process of slowly drinking and chewing her stew. Her tail swung like a pendulum as she tilted the bowl in further. While appearing as a small woman, she scarfed down its contents quicker than any average human should've, clearing nearly thirty ounces in under fifty seconds. The blissful flavor was enough to alter her physical control, letting tiny green embers flare off her skin, replacing pores with soft pelts of brown and beige fur. Just like that, she was back inside the cabin, except adorned by half-human faculties; folded wings, mossy horns, delicate fluff, and a pair of razored claws attached to her bare bipedal form. Carefully, she set her emptied bowl down onto the table, speechlessly lifting a bittersweet smile towards Wallace.

Watering black pupils mirrored his worried gaze, tears welling up at the seams of her eyes. Confused in a number of ways, Wallace anxiously scanned Rana's expression. "Rana, what's wrong? Was it bad?" He asked fearfully. Her eyes shifted from the bowl and over to him, thoroughly puzzled. "How did you make this?" She asked with serious cadence. His extending hand trembled faintly in the air, uncertain of wether to place it over her shoulder or not. "Rana, I'm sorry. If I did something dumb, then please, let me make it up t-" Rana's wings materialized in a frenzy of virid flames, spanning as she wrapped her arms around him. A tenuous yelp uttered from his throat as she gently pulled him in. Rana's tail swayed in back of her, this time lacking control as it strummed a row of noisy cabinets, then curved back, brushing the face of a wall-clock. Rana's head nuzzled tenderly under Wallace's chin, before rising up and hazily brushing her lips over his own.

The inexplicable act took him by surprise, throwing his hands up. As her head continued to tilt in fluid motions, his arms slowly descended back down, fingers fondly settling on her wings. Despite her sudden friskiness, Wallace mentally snapped out of shock, forcibly seizing composure. Hesitation no longer held him in stasis, heart pounding as he reciprocated her motions, fitting his lips over hers just in time with each motion. For over a minute, they were left in passionate silence, relishing in every stroke of each other's rapt ministrations. The instant they pulled apart, Wallace gasped for air. The sound invoked a tinge of worry in her eyes. His heavied breaths lingered, listening to her mirthful reprimands. "Gods, Wallace . . . you've gone out of breath. Try tapping my shoulders next time." She teased. After regaining his breath, he peered into her eyes, watching endless spectrums of green stretch outward. He slowly sank into them, as if under a spell that rendered him weightless. It wasn't the first time he'd gotten lost in them, and it certainly wouldn't be the last.

"I don't think I'd want to." He replied, his eyes half-lidded. A fur-obscured flush permeated her cheeks. Her tail jokingly prodded his chest on repeat, pantomiming a reprimand. "You wouldn't want to suffocate either!" She griped playfully, concealing a hint of seriousness. They exchanged mutual grins, unwittingly standing within view of the window. Much to their ignorance, three pairs of eyes observed them from afar; two yellow, and one turquoise. They continued, unaware of their onlookers as Wallace's fingers rested over her waist, curling into the cusp of her thickening tail. She grinned softly in reaction. "You know . . . if this were a kissing contest, you'd be standing on the top pedestal." She said, her voice dropping an octave. Rana's claws friskily copied his hold over her lower half, gently squeezing Wallace's tush. Surprised, he stifled an amused chuckle, feeling her fuzzy muscles expanding beneath his touch as she clenched back. What she had to say next caught him off guard, coming straight from the blue. "I hope you like dark sand, because we're going to Coal Cove." She informed, her eyes glinting desirously.

Those words gave him pause, coming off as an unexpected, albeit welcomed surprise. Wallace's face welled with excitement, recalling rumors of the exalted semi-tropical paradise. In addition, he'd never set foot on Coal Cove, no-less any kind of beach. Due to an abundance of volcanic interference, not many could reach the aforementioned bayside; even less had an actual Dragon to fly them there, much to his good fortune. "Really? I've never seen the beach before!" He exclaimed, suddenly beaming. It was on his bucket-list, dotted in a dusty journal hidden somewhere deep underneath the cabin. "You mean it? You'll really take me there?" Wallace's golden eyes glinted hopefully into her's, obliviously kneading his sharp claws into her hips. Rana didn't flinch or jerk back. Instead, her fingers affectionately sideswept several locks of his blond hair as she smiled warmly. "You'll love it. It's so much more than just a beach." She answered. A tranquil rumble emanated from Wallace's throat as she ambled towards the door, head turning to look back.

"Oh, and bring your shotgun, just in case wildlife takes a liking to your smell, like last time." She suggested, sportively booping his nose as her tail passed him the weapon. Wallace simpered mirthfully, holding in a laugh. "I hope they like the smell of shells this time." He said, attentively flicking the safety on. Rana smirked in agreement . . . then her face turned serious. "If anything does engage you, don't give them any warning shots. Some will still attack." She advised, tilting her head in solemnly as their eyes connected. A tincture of concern diluted his chucklesome expression. "That's kind of barbaric, but alright. Whatever you say." He replied, his tone wavering. Rana grunted under her breath, as if bothered. Judging by her silent gait, it seemed his response wasn't acceptable. "Then I'll keep close, so nothing can hurt you." She acclaimed, aiming an aggressive glare. Her appendage wrapped abruptly around his waist, like an eager serpent, guiding him outside.

His legs stumbled nervously down the porch steps, unable to fall against her hold. "No need for shoes. They'll just gather sand." She informed, stolidly masking her temperament with silence. The muscular grasp around his waist pulled taut like a peckish snake, before hoisting him into the air. He jolted at first, face scrunching as his middle ear rattled while suspended above her. His lips blew a sigh. "Hey! Maybe just wait until I hop on?" He sassily remarked, watching her muscles shift as they flared a rich green beneath him. Rana's fur set alight as he dangled, a verdant shroud of dancing flames filling between every cusp and curve. Her ladylike appendages fell flat over the leafy dirt, bulking into muscular tones. Wallace felt Rana's tail swell around his torso, lengthening in accommodation to her growing mass. Extra length coursed through the appendage, until her tapering tailtip brushed against his cheeks, washing it with verdant fire. Initially jolting against the benign flames, Wallace's face twisted into question upon watching her wings unfold, flinging virid embers like a swarm of mad fireflies. Then his excitement froze, as a plummeting realization dawned on him.

"Wait. Rana? . . . How are we gonna travel to Coal Cove?" He asked, beginning to breathe unevenly. The last flecks of fire reentered Rana's form, a limy olive light waning as she perched him onto her back. Her gentle coils slackened carefully, as if unraveling a brittle gemstone. "It's twelve hours by foot, Wallace. We'll save eleven by flying." She informed, bending her neck to flash a pitying smile. His expression fell into horror, as if staring into the depths of Hell. "No . . . No-no-no, Rana . . . Put me down!" He ordered, shakily pointing to the ground. She beat her wings in preparation, shrugging off his command. Her tail loosely encircled his upper body, acting as a guardrail to keep him contained. "Don't take off!" He shouted demandingly. Wallace's stomach dropped, his muscles stiffening as she lunged into the air. That gave him a startling jolt as the world around them plunged beneath his vision. He gasped, feeling the velocity's effects.

—— As they ascended through an endless sky, the forest grounds sounded with rustling leaves. A jolt of motion burst from one of several bushes surrounding the faraway cabin. A coat of beige fur toppled into the dirt, it's dipstick tail swaying ceaselessly. Two pairs of eyes peered from the shelter of foliage; barely blinking orbs of gold and turquoise. The seething whisper of a female's voice called out. "Vim! Get back in here. They'll see us!" The yellow eyes urged him. "What did he do that for?" Mumbled the male next to her. The fox retreated back within, rustling a single leaf. Once inside, Vim's vision adjusted to the dark, focusing on two irritated pairs of eyes. Kedra's claws took him by the tuft, drawing in close and personal. "Vim, what was that? Just because they're gone, it doesn't mean we spazz out and dart into the open!" Her finger flicked his nose reprimandingly.

Vim raked his ears back, sounding a remorseful chitter. "I'm sorry. I got scared! My body just lost control!" He defended. The other two sighed, letting go of their breaths. "Well, at least we know nobody saw us. Otherwise, we'd be discovered by now because of you, Vim." She presumed, flicking her tail. Arlin came between them, gesturing a hand. "Hold on, Kedra. Should we assume what we saw was dangerous? A boy and an unknown creature making love? This warrants caution?"

Kedra blurted an inaudible chuckle. "What do you mean 'making love'? They were just kissing, and grabbing . . . also moaning . . ." She trailed off into an uncertain tone, barely mumbling the next two words. ". . . And fondling?" She added quietly. Arlin stared in bemusement, unblinking. "It's difficult for me to taste the difference. Either way, those two were very aroused." He assessed stolidly. The cat's expression narrowed judgingly. "Eww . . ." Kedra cringed, stepping aside. "You see, Arlin, it's words like those that make me fear people hearing us." She complained.

Vim's tail curled betwen his legs, pushing into the conversation. "We spent hours hiking over here! I told you we should've gotten closer!" He added, visibly upset. Kedra's face scrunched a bit, showing a glimpse of her fangs. "You guys are treating this like we didn't just see something unexplainable! What was she!? Have you ever seen anything like that?" She argued. Arlin nodded plainly. "Not me. Whatever we saw, my tribes hold no record of it." He said in a pondering voice. Vim's eyes shifted with theirs, ruminating, until flashing a look of shock. "If Arlin's tribe lacks the books, then she has to be a new species! What do you think, Kedra? Anything you know?"

She nodded uncertainly. "Not really . . . I mean, I've heard rumors about strange beasts lurking in the woods. I just didn't expect it to hold some truth. It's hard to believe what I saw."

Arlin's head tilted down in response, staring pensively. "I wouldn't usually be the one to say this, but . . ." He paused, shifting towards the cabin. "We should search that house." Kedra's triangular ear tilted on one side, clearly perplexed. "You weren't too happy to tag along with us, Arlin. Now you want to go breaking-and-entering?" The reptile's turquoise orbs blinked in the thick shade, nodding calmly in affirmation. "Whatever it takes to get info. Harmless crimes are a small price to pay for-" Arlin paused, briefly leaving the song of birds to play in the background. His eyes darted about, exchanging between Kedra and the suddenly empty space beside her. "Vim . . ?" He called, spinning around and looking over his shoulders. "Where's Vim?" He inquired. Kedra reeled, glancing around in a similar fashion.

She bit down a scowl. "Damnit! He already ran off without us!" Her finger pointed into the distance, guiding Arlin's eyes. Vim's rapid gait took him towards the mahogany cabin, occasionally alternating from his hind legs to all-fours as he ran. "I got bored! Just saving some daylight!" He said, shouting from a distance. Kedra jumped out of the bushes, eying him with reproof. "How does he even run like that?" She thought out loud. Their tails swayed behind them as they swiftly padded after Vim. Each of their breaths remained leveled and steady with every quickening step as they rushed over. Their growing proximity introduced a strong herbal scent mixed with spiced Brittle-Wing (a bird meat), rushing to greet their noses. Vim's claws pitter-pattered on Wallace's vacant porch, his bushy tail brushing past the empty rocking chair. Their group caught up, watching him open the door with zero reluctance.

Kedra's fangs clenched together, swiping her hand in circles as she gestured him to come back. "Vim, get back here! You're leaving footprints in the dust!" She called. As she surveyed it, a small realization dawned on her, raising an eyebrow at the dusty wooden surface. Kedra's studious yellow gaze tilted as her eyes squinted. "Wait a minute . . . that's not dust." She muttered musingly. Kedra's curiosity beckoned her over, stroking a single pawed digit against the steps. She brought the finger up, analyzing it with keen observation, until her face dropped into confusion. "Strange . . . This is Eastern sand, from Gargoyle Desert." She ascertained, visibly puzzled. Distracted, she promptly patted off her hands, letting Vim press on. Arlin's head joined in, looking down and prodding the air with his forked black tongue. He took in the scent, discerning it carefully with studious eyes.

"Hmm, you're right. Well-done, Kedra. How did you know by texture alone?" He asked, tilting his head at her. Kedra's hand rose, protracting her claws out demonstratively with a seasoned look. "My paw-pads are dark, so it's easy to see the grains. Unlike most sands, they're softer and clearer. Duller, rounder grains means it's from the Eastern Regions." She elaborated. "I see . . . Noted. —Vim's going inside the house." He informed, hearing the click of a door behind them. "Oh, for the love of Gods . . . Hey Vim, just wait for us, and don't break anything." She droned. Her expression turned bleary for a moment, tail flicking as she followed suit. Vim eluded her reprimands, poking his muzzle into the cabin air. His nose sniffed curiously, prodding around with the intrigue of a typical canine.

He turned around, signaling over his mate. "Kedra, come in here and smell this! You have to get this scent, it's amazing!" He insisted, eyes popping wide. His tail wagged faster as she approached, her brow arching in questioning. Anything that noteworthy, she would've smelt it from the bushes. "What, the food? Doesn't smell that great. I've literally cooked better in my—" She stopped dead in her tracks, standing still beneath the cabin threshold. Kedra's nose twitched as her ears perked straight, facing forward. Now that they were inside, she caught the scent's full effects. An invisible fog of sweet and savory bliss wrapped around her, shamelessly flaunting its added spices. Behind them, Arlin's head jerked, as if someone had punched him. On instinct, his body bulletted towards the cabin entrance. His steps approached more rapidly than they'd ever heard them.

Their startled flinches were mitigated by the distracting aroma. "What is that . . . beguiling taste?" Arlin asked, his chest rising and falling. As he breathed slightly faster, they could tell something was off. Arlin's eyes fogged over from the scent, but not enough to ignore how antsy his friends had become. Vim felt his legs going unsteady, while Kedra's tail seemed to hike up all on its own. They momentarily eyed him with confusion, as if silently asking a question, all while trying to shake away a persistent haze. A genuine look of worry pulled on Kedra's features. Her gaze surveyed over the stew, carefulling taking in redwood cabinets and used kitchenware. "Something isn't right." She muttered suspiciously. "I've smelled these ingredients before. I know what this scent is, but . . . it's just not possible." She said, swiftly reaching for a myriad of cabinets.

Without thinking, Kedra wildly swung them open as she rummaged through, clearing pots, pans and a beige pair of misplaced baking mitts. Abrupt metal clanks rang out, barely jolting the other two behind her. Arlin's concern grew as he watched her. He stepped forward, calmly placing his hand on her shoulder. "Kedra, if that odor's what you think it is, then we have a problem." He cautioned.

Vim sniffed the air with his eyes closed, swinging his bushy tail back and forth. "How is it a problem?" He questioned, smiling laxly as his topaz eyes opened halfway. Both the cat and reptile paused, deadpanning with reproof. "Vim, I just went into heat the minute we walked in here . . . and it's summer." She argued, her ears sweeping back. Vim suddenly broke his trance. His eyes ripped off the invisible scent, fondly locking onto Kedra.

An aura of excitement radiated from his smile. "So? As long as I'm around, you won't have to worry about heat!" He assured obliviously, happily wagging his tail to her complaints. Her ears perked up, switching angles as she tried to cool down, struggling for control over an array of wild hormones. Kedra's voice went hush, as if the whole forest could hear them. "Keep your mouth shut, Vim . . ." She seethed bashfully, glancing back and forth through opposing windows. But her reprimands did nothing to deaden his sunny grin. The moment Kedra blinked, he disappeared in a single motion. He was gone, but now she could feel an airy brush of fur at her ankles. Suddenly, he sprung up behind her, gently grasping Kedra's upper arms. Like any cat would, she jolted at the touch of a wet nose on her neck. Her tail lifted unseasonably high at the sensation of a warm tongue dragging at the cusp of her neck and shoulder.

"Vim, that's . . . en . . . enou-" A trailing sigh cut off her words. Arlin simply stared, somewhat irked at the display. "Damned mammals. Control yourselves." He scolded. He waltzed up to them, wedging his arms between their embrace, and prying the two apart. Vim staggered back a bit, rumbling a dim growl. He seemed mostly disappointed, ears ramping back as a frown weighed on his face. "You're lucky you haven't marked any mates yet, Arlin! It's not something we can control!" Vim complained. A tint of anger shaded his typically cheery personality, tail curling beneath himself. Arlin's scaly brow rose, half-annoyed. "I wonder about that. After all, your instincts were triggered by a mere stew." Kedra's eyes were still fogged over, yet she managed to shake it off with a tinge of mutual anger. "Vim's right, Arlin! Since when has any Beast-Folk ever resisted heat? I'm burning up, and it's only growing!" She complained, her chest rising and falling at irregular intervals.

Arlin facepalmed, letting out an impatient sigh. Their aroused scents coalesced with the stew's, making him clear his throat in annoyance. Tasting everything at once, Arlin felt himself growing overwhelmed, the air tightening around him like a vice. His sharp finger pointed towards the door, speaking with barely noticeable anxiety. "Then retreat into our hiding-bush. You can satisfy yourselves there." He urged, narrowing his eyes.

Vim and Kedra fell quiet, exchanging glances with one another, then at Arlin. Their agreement was forged in silence, confirmed by a mutual nod. Without another word, they darted off outside, scampering towards nature's beckoning call. Arlin could still taste the odor they left behind, watching them pick up speed as they sprinted towards the bush. Once out of sight, Arlin shakily stepped forward, only to stumble and fall to his knees. His formerly stoic expression fell into exhaustion. Struggling for leverage, he managed to prop himself up by clenching the bedpost. "Gods, almighty." He blurted out, clenching his teeth. "I'm . . . I'm in control." He whispered, unaware of speaking aloud. His blue head and turquoise eyes quickly scanned the cabin's interior, struggling to focus. 'I must find those herbs.' He echoed internally. Arlin's tongue slithered out as he rapidly jolted in different directions, searching the cabin's every nook and cranny.

His pupils shifted, wandering urgently as his claws and tail sorted through a strewn mess of clattering cookware. He neatly placed them back inside the cabinets, gradually cleaning and reorganizing Kedra's mistakes as he thoroughly continued to probe everything. Eventually, his eyes stopped at a window nearest to Wallace's bed, miraculously keeping a straight face through the heavy fumes. A row of three barely empty jars stood along the concave threshold, reflecting dappled glints of daylight. "What's this?" He muttered, weakly padding over and lifting one of the containers. His black claws reached over and rotated the glass, reading a print of fancy calligraphy. "It's . . . Meritolm." He read it aloud, his eyes widening with shock at the label. Its remaining contents laid scarcely at the bottom; a pinelike twig colored dark-green, marginally resembling the festive points of a snowflake. "This is . . . seasonally impossible." He said, tilting his head in bemusement. The herb's leaves shook as he rattled the jar, just to confirm it was real.

Cracking open its lid, he got an explicit taste, lashing the air with his tongue. His pupils widened at the potent fragrance, making him stumble back. He closed the jar quickly, negating its effects as he shook his head. 'Gods, it's real, but . . . what are these other ones?' His thoughts echoed, placing it back and twisting the other jars around. Arlin nearly gasped upon reading the labels. His turquoise eyes observed the contents with lasting astonishment. "Polytruffle . . ? Silverseed?" He questioned, finally realizing just what type of stew they'd stumbled upon. Arlin's gears turned with seasoned scrutiny. What was left of the polytruffle were tiny folds of multicolored mushroom, each fused and layered together in diverse species. The other jar contained remnants of tiny, tear-shaped seeds, each boasting a layer of fragrant silver fuzz. Arlin shook his head slowly in disbelief, remembering the human he saw earlier. "That poor boy . . . Whoever his friend is, she better be immune." He said aloud, stiffly glaring into the jar.

His ear canals faintly detected the breaths of euphoric sighs sounding far away. They were faded utterances, clouded in mindless bliss. He hissed under his breath, irking at his friend's noises with clenching eyes. He faintly repeated a phrase under his breath, head dipped down and focused. "My hormones have no control over me . . . My instincts do not control me. Primal urges do not control me." He repeated those sentences with increasing emphasis, straining in the process. "Soul over mind. Mind over body; mind and soul, over body." He muttered carefully, eyes fluttering open as his lungs stretched a lasting breath. Despite the alluring mist still curling into Arlin's nose, he cleared his head enough to grasp a sense of clarity. He somehow managed to snag a jar, deftly grabbing it with his tail. His claws opened the other two, pouring there meager contents into the first. Once contained, he snapped the metal latch, tightly securing its glass lid.

The cauldron's steam was subsiding, although gradually. Regardless, Arlin still felt his blood brimming with unwanted arousal. That lack of control soon bubbled into anger, marked by a razor-sharp grimace. His legs scrambled with a sudden jolt, rushing towards the fresh and piney fragrance of Rethelia's outdoors. Arlin's arm-strength shone through, accidentally slamming the door on his way out. Deep, refreshing breaths of forest air filled his lungs, providing a moment's peace, until . . . 'CRACK!' A dull, rocky thump scattered across the cabin's floorboards. The scratchy roll of rough pebbles resounded inside after a clattering impact, as if something had shattered. Arlin didn't care, shrugging off the remaining evidence of entry. His tail clutched the jar as he pattered along, marking stumbled footprints over the dusty wooden steps. A moment of relief softened his chest, allowing temporary comfort against the rising tension.

However, that feeling reversed like whiplash upon hearing a masculine voice wedging in front of him, coming abruptly from the house's side. "Well-well-well . . ." The manly tone of someone leaning against a wooden pillar called out to him, widening Arlin's eyes and freezing his bones. "What do we have here? A thief?" Asked the onlooker. His tone oozed a cool, casual energy, albeit suspicious.

Arlin's expression leveled as he turned around with a neutral look. It took every ounce of his control not to jump. "Pardon?" He spoke innocently, barely masking a wavering tone. The tall man's intimidating posture didn't budge, even as he calmly approached, crunching leaves beneath his leather boots. Arlin's turquoise stare gathered a long beige trenchcoat, vaguely tinctured in a thin layer of smokey residue. His footclaws slowly dragged a half-step back, observing the scrutiny etched into Damius' face. His steel-toed boots stopped in front of him, making Arlin's tail stiffen. A pair of discerning blue eyes stared him down, accentuated by short brown hair and a matching thin-trimmed beard. He had to admit, human beards did exude a fascinating appearance; a charming look. "Where are your friends, Arlin?" He asked plainly.

The reptile's face jerked lightly, eyes growing wide. "W-what?" He stammered, reeling back at the sudden call of his name. "Who are you? How do you know my name?" He asked, fully stepping back. His pupils shifted briefly, glancing towards the hideout-bush just over Damius' shoulder. The mysterious man's attention caught quickly, following his fleeting glance. He turned just enough to look over his own shoulder, taking note of a large bush far off in the distance. His eyes returned to Arlin, becoming less aggressive. "Your group needs to leave; for the sake of their safety." The 'human' cautioned. Arlin's eyes shifted nervously, feigning boldness. "Why do you say that?" He asked, his eye-ridges narrowing. Damius cracked a smile, giving a mute laugh. "It's not a threat, don't worry." He said, calmly signaling his hands up. "I'm just letting you know, the man who lives here is dangerous. The three of you shouldn't be snooping around in that house."

"Why? Do you know him?"

"What, the guy? Nah, we just met. I just delivered a gun for him. We did a standard testing procedure, and he absolutely obliterated eight targets in just three seconds. All forty-five yards away with a shotgun." His hand rose, laxly pointing to the sky. Arlin's gaze led upwards, viewing an array of red strings clinging to the burgundy bark of multiple redwoods. His head tilted into question, slender tongue poking out and tasting a faint residue of lingering porcelain. That which was still attached hung broken, yet hinted at an impossible angle of trajectory and impact. His eyes squinted, leaning in with a perplexed face. 'Damnit Kedra. Tending to your mindless desires, just when I need you.' He thought, straining to analyze the scene mathematically. Arlin stepped back again, warily posturing himself. "If that were true, then he's a monster." He replied, chest sinking as a myriad of theories struck like lightning through his mind.

However, Arlin's perplexity dispersed at the arch of his brow. "Wait . . . if you're done delivering, then what are you still doing here?" His judging glare pushed into the man. The stranger's attitude hadn't changed, boldly curving his lips into a smug grin. "What's it look like? I'm house-sitting!" He said with a shrug.

"House-sitting? When you already have a delivery job?"

Damius' brazen façade wavered, jaw catching before it fell. "Hey, I'm allowed to take breaks. I've got a lot of work to do, and It's a demanding jo-"

Arlin cut him off, speaking in monotone. "A demanding job that revolves around shipping endless weapons a day through Lurwelk . . . yet, here you are, still in the woods —talking to a Beast-Folk." He lectured, infectiously spreading a look of uncertainty. "You also said delivering was a demanding job, so I doubt you're really house-sitting."

Damius' face fell, groaning lightly under his breath. "Look, whatever the case, I can't stand idly by while someone gets robbed. Did you guys even bother taking a look at what he's protecting?" He pointed towards a mossy headstone tucked halfway into the shrubs. Arlin's eyes followed, examining its carved epitaphs. His face went cold, pupils shrinking as he realized what it was. He shifted back to the stranger, wearing a guilty frown. "I . . . I wasn't aware. I swear to you, none of us saw that." Hints of anxiety sounded from the back of his throat. Damius felt the immediate sorrow in his tone, arms folded as he nodded. "I believe you." He said sternly, letting his shoulders relax. "At least you know now. I was confused at first, because I thought Beast-Folk were normally very respectful of the dead." He said, breaking his glare with a smirk.

"It's true. Until now, we've been very careful never to dishonor the deceased." His penitent eyes flitted towards the headstone. "I only hope the spirit who rests here isn't upset with us." He said worriedly. Damius' eyebrows ramped with pity. "That's the funny thing about this one." He said, pointing at the grave marker. "I remember this guy. He always loved Beast-Folk. Probably would've welcomed you in, too." A reminiscent smile curved warmly over his face.

The lizard reflected a similar look. "Is that so? Then it's a shame he's passed on. I wish there were more humans like that." Arlin's expression fell into a look of regret, before glancing up at Damius. "So, who are you, then? A friend who's come to pay his respects?" He aksed, shooting an inquisitive look.

He gave a sidelong nod. "Not exactly. We're not really friends." Any remaining feel for normalcy wavered when Damius slowly drew closer. A serious look appeared on the 'human's' face, causing Arlin's tail to stiffen. "I was watching you three. I saw everything you witnessed." He said, bluntly breaking the words over his head. The sound of his leather boots released a suspicious aura as they crunched closer.

Arlin's eyes shifted nervously, locking onto Vim and Kedra's current bunking-space. The reptile paused as his face returned to Damius, thinking of what to say. "So then . . . you saw that creature, and her . . . partner?" His tone strained marginally at that last word.

Damius nodded, speaking with subtle condescension. "Now you're getting the picture. Just when I thought everyone was gone, your fox-friend rushed out of those bushes." He summarized, casually lifting up a familiar jar and catching it with his hands.

Arlin's eyes popped to awareness, suddenly locking onto the container. He spun back, abruptly checking his tail. The appendage reflected an iridescent blue as it flexed into little but air. He returned with a twist, facing Damius again with a perplexed gape. "When did you . . ?" His eyes bobbed up and down as the jar rose and fell.

A smug smirk curved along the 'human's' lips. "When did I what? Don't you remember? You handed this over to me, mid-conversation." He teased.

"I recall no such thing. How'd you manage to do that?" He asked, mystified. Damius walked away, ignoring Arlin's question as he headed towards the cabin.

The reptile grunted faintly, before speaking in protest. "Give that back! Those are sacred herbs, meant only for Beast-Folk ceremonies! I wasn't planning on returning them!" He growled.

Damius opened the door, promptly setting the jar inside on Wallace's window. The place was littered with fragments of a rough and sandy rock that'd scattered after falling over, likely from vibration. Giving the place a once-over, his eyes caught on a glint of metallic green within one of the pieces; a strange sheen that caused him to amble over with scrutinous eyes, curiously picking it up.

He gave an emotionless glance towards Arlin with the rock in hand, splitting his attention as he spoke. "And I wasn't planning on letting you steal from a pair of monsters. Seems kinda unsafe." He argued nonchalantly.

Luckily he couldn't see Damius pocket the strange specimen, with the view of his shoulder being cut off by the door's threshold.

A heated fury brimmed within the reptile, threatening to burst at a moment's notice. "You foolish humans . . . You simply exist, and that somehow grants you ownership over every material we share in this world!" He said, fists clenching.

Damius feigned a look of concern as he stepped off the porch. "Who said I was returning this to a human?" He asked, casually ambling back over.

Arlin was thrown for a loop, giving pause. "What do you mean . . ?" He asked, his look of anger freezing.

"What, you don't know? I'm talking about that young man you three were spying on. Y'know, the one with the yellow eyes?" He lifted his brow.

Arlin's rage simmered down, diluted by curiosity. "Yellow eyes? On a human?" His expression narrowed pensively, silently making the connection. "So he's . . . a hybrid?" His pupils shifted in contemplation, before fully registering the information. "That's . . . obscenely rare." He commented, eyes lighting at the prospect of new and unique information.

Damius gave a knowing look. "They're not actually as rare as you'd think. You'd be surprised. They practically live like worms under rocks." He said reflectively, glancing over his shoulder at the cabin. "The one who lives here is waaaay different though." He added, pointing with his thumb.

Arlin went silent, stumbling verbally at first. "I-I could've asked him so many questions." He muttered regrettably.

The creeping memories of his subconscious leaked through. His chest sank, recalling a missed opportunity for collecting rare knowledge among their travels.

After a pensive pause, his expression refocused. "Now that you mention it, I think me and my friends have seen him before. We were on the path back from Lurwelk a few days ago, and he was asleep on that horse's back; a white mare with . . ." Arlin trailed off, pondering briefly in disbelielf.

His mind connected the dots, one-by-one. Those strange green flames, the mare's matching eyes, being far too reminiscent of that fiery beast . . . and that boy . . . That's when realization dawned on him. "Horses don't have pure green eyes." He corrected himself, letting his voice marvel.

Damius watched him puzzle it all together, a sinking sensation growing in the Dragon's chest. He opted to interject the reptile's musings, but was interrupted.

"His partner changes . . . like the shapeshifter of myth." The lizard blurted.

His mind began to wander, musing deeper into an infinite realm of possibilities. He seemed both perturbed and bewildered, as if he'd seen a ghost. Damius reeled at the word in surprise, seeing something in his eyes; that pondering gaze of realization. He'd seen that look before, many of ancient times ago, back when humans were still getting acquainted with Dragons; those long-forgotten, redacted times. His shoulders fell, sinking into the mental image of Rana and her general disinterest in their rules. 'Oh, Rana . . .' He thought, raising a hand up and rubbing his temples. 'You're getting careless' his mind echoed disapprovingly. He shifted a studious look towards the lizard, watching his awareness heighten. Arlin's expression became increasingly awestruck, much to his concern.

"Hey, what's swirling in that noggin of yours?" Damius asked, offering comfort with a pat on his back. "It could've just been a magic trick . . . I mean, those green flames were a bit theatrical, right?" He asked mirthfully, giving a lax shrug. "I'd say 'shapeshifters' is a bit far-fetched, at least for me." He finished, suppressing his anxiety with a titter.

Arlin arched an eye-ridge, head slowly turning suspiciously, staring him dead in the eyes. 'Shapeshifters?' He thought, questioning the accidental "s" at the end. 'Why did he say it like that?' He wondered. An array of bold inquiries culminated in his mind, making him question the stranger.

His expression forced a look of assent as he spoke cautiously. "Maybe so. It is fairly far-fetched." He admitted, nodding down in faux agreement.

Damius shrugged carelessly. "Hey, you can believe whatever you want. I'm just saying."He said laxly.

Arlin nodded back. "No, you're right. It could've been an elaborate trick; possibly humans intervention. That's why I'll need additional research. If I wish to learn more, I may have to interview the creature." He said, stroking his chin in contemplation.

Damius' carefree demeanor wavered, stiffening up like a board. "Wait. What?" He asked, standing up straighter.

Arlin sighed. "As you said, it could've simply been a ploy or trick. Knowledge is worthless without evidence, so I must study towards a hypothesis." He explained.

Damius blinked twice, replying somewhat nervously. "I see . . ." He pocketed his hands, eying the lizard with mild suspicion. "So, Beast-Folk . . . you don't seem like anyone local to these regions. What tribe are you from?" He asked, hoping to shift the subject.

He breathed a solemn sigh, seeming to resent the question. "Stone Bough." An insecure frown weighed on his face as he pushed the last word out. "Formerly."

The 'man's' trench-coat wavered to and fro with the inner motions of his fidgeting hands. "Gods, that one? That's rough, buddy. You think they'll ever take you back?"

Arlin scoffed faintly. "They're the ones who want me back. I don't."

The 'human' arched his brow. "Really? An esteemed tribe like that? Why'd you leave?"

The lizard's eyes panned timidly to the side. "I'd rather not say."

Damius folded his arms nonchalantly. "That's fine. Beleive it or not, you already answered my question anyways."

Arlin's eyes bore a glint of irritation. "If you think you know anything, it's unlikely." He assured.

Damius shrugged his shoulders. "But I do know 'things'. These eyes have seen more 'things' than anyone needs to, so I definitely know what I'm saying. In fact, the Stone Bough Tribe is among one of my favorite groups." He boasted forwardly.

The forest went quiet as he leaned in, flashing a knowing grin. His voice was steeped in a comical tone. "It was the matriarchs, wasn't it?" He asked, smirking with a low tone.

Arlin's body and expression froze for half a second. "Matriarchs? No. You . . . You're wrong. They were not at fault. I was just unwilling to . . ." He trailed off, shaking his head timidly.

Damius took the reigns again, much to the reptile's silent anxiety. "Y'know, you look smart, Arlin. I'll bet they wanted the seed of your blood . . . Am I wrong?" The question briefly shook Arlin's bones. Damius' head tilted forward, pushing his words like a clever serpent. "But you refused to take a mate, didn't you?" His smile broadened, this time revealing rows of perfectly white human teeth that rarely occurred in their Era.

Arlin reeled back, as if subjected to a small zap. "What!? How di-" His voice caught suddenly. He cleared his throat, forcing a calm tone. "Erm . . . How did you create such a feeble assumption?" He questioned, sternly folding his arms.

One could see the ego in Damius' sassy smile. "What, with the way you were staring at me a few minute ago? How did I ever?" He mocked, staring accusingly with the tilt of his head.

Arlin rolled his eyes, feeling the ridges twitch above them. "Oh please, don't flatter yourself, human. If I were like that, I'd have thrown myself off a cliff before ogling someone like you." He bit back.

Damius chuckled in response, hands freeing from his pockets. "Funny. Because I never said anything about 'ogling' . . . Gods, I'll bet it's rough playing for the same gender as a Beast-Folk." He taunted smugly, culminating a noticeable blush over Arlin's cheeks. "While I'm not into guys, I do know that look. Seen it on plenty of girls." He added shamelessly.

Arlin's tail twitched. "Don't be a smart-ass! If you can't refrain from picking on me, then you're only alive out here because of luck!" He fired back.

Damius threw his hands up defensively. "Woah, buddy! I didn't mean to bully you! My sympathies come off rude, but they're genuine, I promise." He explained, face marked with pity.

Arlin grew flustered, saturating the lighter blue on his scales with darker tones. His muscles tensed up, teeth clenching in attempted calmness.

"I don't care. You've affectively played your little role as wood-patrol, now just leave me be!" He retorted, hissing under his breath.

Damius backed away, finally receiving the message. "Alright, alright, fine! So feisty . . ." He complained semi-seriously. "Just remember what I said about staying away from here. Don't let me find you three lying around dead next time I visit." He half-joked, ambling away with the point of his finger.

Arlin scowled, aiming a seething glare through the back of Damius' skull as his trench-coat faded into Rethelia's depths. "Damnit," irked his whispering voice. "why are humans so conniving?" He muttered crankily. His mind drifted into silence, vaguely aware of something amiss with the tall man. The distant bushes rustled from afar, alerting him to turn around. As if on cue, Vim and Kedra emerged naked, squeezing their limber bodies from the leafy shrubs. 'It's about damn time!' He thought, his eyes daggering into them. His tone grew harsh as they brazenly approached, casually holding their measly garments.

"How long could procreation possibly take for two mammals?" He complained, stepping forward with obvious annoyance.

"We weren't. I brought protection!" Vim said sunnily, tail wagging as he pulled up a flexible pink strip. It was a thoroughly cleaned segment of an animal intestine, tied intricately on one end.

Kedra nodded in agreement. "Ancient humans would use these way back. Maybe they're not as enjoyable as just taking the anato root, but at least I'm not pregnant." She said, causally stepping back into her loincloth. Both males could tell she was far more relaxed than before. Arlin's tight expression softened, watching a visible spring in her step.

"A strange man walked up to me. Said he saw us watching that couple. He also told me we should avoid this house." Arlin warned, cutting through their fading afterglow. Vim hadn't even dressed himself up yet, no-less paid any attention to what he'd said. "That does it! No more leaving our friend alone like that! If we find a tribe out here, I won't stop until I get you a girlfriend!" He swore with concern.

A wave of melancholy ran through Arlin's cold blood. He smiled bittersweetly, speaking in a worn voice. "Thanks, Vim, but please never do that." He said, sinking back into a sullen mood.

Kedra butted in, sensing something wrong with Arlin's cues. However, her worries centered on more important matters first. "Right, so anyways —the man. Was he the owner of that house?" She asked, her nose facing the cabin.

"No, but something's strange about him. He was worried we'd get shot by the owner here, but also knew my name." Arlin's head tilted, looking up and directing their gazes with his index claw. "Apparently, he set up targets all around here. It was a shotgun . . . forty-five yards away, eight targets, three seconds." He informed.

Kedra gave a nod, then interrupted herself with a double-take. She glanced at him, looking confused. "Three seconds? With the way everything was set up, he'd have to use near-perfect reflexes, assuming the weapon doesn't lurch back too much." She observed sharply, stroking her cheek with an uplifted claw.

Kedra knew by his expression, that if Arlin had pores, he would've been sweating. He seemed puzzled, even unnerved at her wild assessments. "How much do we know about human hybrids?" He asked somewhat shakily.

"Why?" Kedra turned to fully face him, her brow arching. "They're what you'd expect; high energy, fickle, and definitely social pariah's, like us."

Arlin's head tilted with intrigue. "How do you know?"

Her eyes resonated a mild sadness. "My tribe rescued a bird-human once. It was the churches. They'd killed both of her adopted parents. Even though we were really accommodating, she never liked talking . . . to humans, or to Beast-Folk, which I guess I can understand." Vim inched into the conversation, ears quietly listening this time, instead of interrupting. Kedra continued, watching his tail oscillate into Arlin's face. The lizard's own tail caught it with irritation, silently weighing it down. "We'd always felt bad for her, so my former friends and I baked her some seed-bread with herbs. We never saw her eat it, but we also never saw that bread again, so at least she wasn't lonely AND hungry. But after that day, she disappeared from her tree-den overnight, and we never saw her again." Her expression lowered reminiscently, leaving their trio in a state of silence.

Vim suddenly spoke, breaking the motionless aura. "Maybe she thought the seed-bread was an insult." He said with saddened eyes, his ears folding back. Kedra's solemn expression brightened a bit, curving a bittersweet smirk. "No, she probably feared seeing more of her guardians die right in front of her, like several others before." She finished flatly, stolidly forbidding the mirth in her voice. Kedra's story lingered among all three of them, settling like a cold mist over their pelts. Arlin's serious composure steeped itself in sympathy. "Gods, that poor girl . . . humans are insane." He said fearfully, his face shifting into question. "Why haven't you told us about this before?" The mountain-cat turned around, pale fur brightening their surroundings as it hit a beam of sunlight. "Nobody ever asked. Besides, which of us likes talking about our tribes?" She said in monotone.

Vim followed suit, speechlessly admiring the luminescence on her body. He released a barely audible chitter, only heard by her. "I know why I left mine!" He said happily, smiling up at her. His tail swayed to and fro, making her light up in more ways than one. She couldn't help beaming back. That adoring, foxy face was too cute to ignore. She leaned forward, tail lifting as her maw pressed against his own. Vim's wagging tail sped faster, with barely contained excitement pushing at his footclaws. They stood there, kissing passionately, heads languidly rotating, as if about to break into another heated session of lovemaking. Arlin interjected with a grunt, nervously folding his arms. With that, Kedra's eyes opened, reluctantly separating from the kiss. As for Vim, who was left panting in bliss . . . he didn't seem to notice the lizard's signals.

Casually ambling off into the wilds hinted at another trip on foot. This was perfectly fine. For any Beast-Folk, staying another minute in the same spot meant becoming too antsy. They were their own tribe now, granting them freedom to wander wherever each member pleased. Kedra glanced over her shoulder, looking at Vim. Her eyes lowered, suddenly blushing as they stopped. "Hey, Vim? You should bring your loincloth. You're still a little . . . excited." She said, staring blankly. His ears perked up, tail swinging as he remembered. "Oh, right. My bad." He said carelessly. Vim fell on all fours, sprinting back to their fornication bush. All the while, Arlin ignored their antics. His mind drifted along the clouds, vividly picturing green embers scattering between that female, and the human boy hybrid. 'Even the cryptid has a partner.' He thought gloomily. But more importantly, his thoughts centered on how he'd keep up on studying such an anomaly. When would she be back? Would she hear them if they eavesdropped? Was anyone else looking for this creature, and could they possibly assist? It was a hurricane of questions gone unanswered, and his friends already seemed to forget it entirely. After all, events equally as bizarre have occurred before.

. . . Meanwhile . . .

"If you go back down, I'll make more of that stew!!" Wallace bargained loudly, reflexively tightening his hold on either side of Rana's torso. His blond hair blew back completely as he squinted through the rushing winds. A pondering look settled on her face. "That is tempting." She said in all seriousness, briefly mulling over his offer. Rana's eyes weighed with developing tension each time he pleaded. "You know I said I wanted back down! This is technically kidnapping!" He said desperately, somewhat to Rana's guilt as her face fell. As they leveled out, Wallace's tightening features nestled into her lower nape, but that didn't help with his inner ear troubles, or the nausea. Oddly enough, it wasn't motion sickness . . . Instead, this was the mortal terror of feeling her body inch down intermittently, forcing him to panic, and his stomach to churn from exposure to extreme fear. "Then I guess I've abducted you. You should file a report to the authorities. —Tell them your dragon girlfriend snatched you away." She joked passively. Though looking forward, her discerning demeanor strained against a sneaking frown. Rana's wings beat above a million coniferous leaves, swaying the entire top halves of each passing redwood as they speared the air. Wallace's limbs quivered, desperately clinging to Rana's back with all of his might.

Her neck curved, checking on him as they ascended higher, until the cold tickle of mist speckled his skin. Peeking off to the side meant glimpsing into a sea of foamy clouds sweeping beneath them, which . . . didn't scare him. His eyes narrowed in suspicion, peering down fearlessly. At first, he thought there was nothing to fear, gradually settling down enough to admire the firmament above. Despite gawking in awe for nearly a minute, the moment was ruined by a downward lag. In reaction, Wallace lurched for leverage he didn't need, clinging again to Rana's draconic form. "Fuck!!" His throat shrieked itself ragged, as if acting on its own. "Rana, please, make it stop!!" He exclaimed. With every downward waver, a widening pit grew in his stomach, causing him to scream on repeat. With Rana's concern roused, her eyes darted back nervously. His bloodcurdling screams finally stirred the sensitive waters of her latent maternal instincts.

"Oh Gods, please, just find a mountain somewhere and land!!" He cried out, blaring through stifling tears. With one more jerk of his seizing body, Rana's composure began to crack, then in minutes—finally break. It was like having a terrified talking cat on her back, claws curling in with every prone jolt. She blared in a mild panic, eyes rapid and helpless in her attempts to diffuse the situation. "What if I gave you more guesses!?" She blurted out randomly. The stress on his body ebbed down marginally, enough to latch curiously onto that sentence. Wallace's face lifted from her nape, his expression permeated with confusion. "W-what . . ?" He replied, pausing in a frazzled state. Rana growled at herself, partially rolling her eyes. 'Oh Gods, Rana. Now you've done it.' She thought, glaring ahead in frustration. Speechless silence thickened the air betwen them. The topic was a sharp turn, but served as an effective distraction. However, it would still lead them down an endless path of infinite Q's and A's. "I'll give you more guesses on what my father is." She repeated sternly, breaking the silence through a hint of anxiety. Wallace wasn't in a stable headspace at the moment, confusion tightening on his face as he digested her words.

He leaned up, carefully avoiding any visuals of the shrunken lands below. "A-actually . . . I had a dream about him last night." He said, crossed between fear and uncertainty. Rana's heart skipped a beat at those words, accidentally propelling them higher with a massive stroke of her wings. "Woah, hey! Be careful!" He reprimanded, angrily clutching bunches of Rana's fur for dear life. The fear on Rana's face began to match his own. Despite speaking at regular proportions, the wind's ceaseless blaring was still no match for her booming voice. "Tell me, what was the dream about? Did he give his name?" She asked first and foremost, her eyes shifting restlessly. Ironically, her suspicious inquiry provided an essential answer, cracking his old reality. His memory drifted, recalling the Dreamscape's lucid paradise, and the regal woodland Dragon it accompanied. "I do remember him giving an interesting name. Gods. What was it? I think it was . . . Leobold?" He vaguely remembered.

Rana's face froze, barely holding in her shock, before silently mulling over the possibilities. She feigned calmness, nodding and glancing back with shrunken pupils. There was a strange tension in her eyes, as if worried about one particular subject. "What did he say?" She pressed again, this time more urgently. Wallace's brow arched, feeling the weight on her voice. "Well . . . he went on this tangent about wanting grandchildren . . ." He replied, feeling Rana's hackles raise. Reluctance gave way as he stopped himself from finishing that sentence. That made it several times worse when Rana finished it for him. "From us?" She presumed, looking off into a deadpan stare. Wallace's head slowly turned away from its ruminations, flashing a surprised gawk. "By the Gods! Was he real?!" He asked in astonishment. Rana blew a deep sigh of relief; a relaxed utterance that only brought more questions. "Yes. Liambold is my father." She said in monotone, becoming more unnerved each second. He locked and narrowed his expression, absorbing the bizarre truth as it split his mind open.

Leftover traces of fear laced his breath. At the same time, he felt a searing warmth spread down Rana's neck. With all of that fur, nobody could tell by sight alone, but she was definitely blushing. "I see he's already given you his 'blessings'." She replied with embarrassment, deadpanning towards the clouded horizon, then giving a sonorous sigh. "Ehehe . . . he sure did . . . not that I haven't given it some thought." He admitted, blushing along with her. Rana's effusion continued, initially oblivious to his remark as her voice crackled the air. "Damnit, Father . . . Why does he continue to embarrass me like this? I can't believe his guts." She growled, biting the wind with narrowing eyes. "This is precisely why Damius keeps harassing me; Father's a fool. He believes he's improving my love-life, but all father's done is boast me to anyone with a penis!" She seethed, her teeth clenching. Wallace's previous comment suddenly cleaved to her mind, hitting it like a brick.

The malice left her eyes, displaced by post-shock. In that quiet moment, her neck craned around, staring with two widening green orbs. "What did you just say?" She asked, her heart suddenly pounding like a drum. The hardy wind scraped between them as she absorbed his words. Wallace winced, realizing what he'd said, now nervously scratching his scalp. His eyes shifted in silence, looking down with pitiful embarrassment. "G-Gods . . . Liambold didn't tell me that part." He replied with reddening cheeks, in attempts to continue her current tirade. Blinking thrice, Rana's head stared forward, face lifting into an astonished smile. She ruminated on the subject, feeling a pleasant tension growing in her chest. 'Is he . . . actually considering it?' She thought, her tail unwittingly wagging like a flag in the wind. Rana's heart began to pound, heating every organ in her body. Cautious of letting her attention slip, Rana's head shook back to awareness. She resumed their conversation. Her earlier thoughts tucked into the back of her mind for later. They could cross that bridge when he was a bit more . . . comfortable. Assuming interspecies procreation would ever be a comforting subject.

Rana's seething ruminations rattled a faint growl up his legs and chest. Her powerful utterances appeared to reverberate each individual droplet in the encompassing clouds, easily snatching his focus. "I'm just mad father brought that up to you without my permission. If it weren't about you —of all people— I'd be storming his domain right about now." She explained, masking her lividity with a calm façade. "Father hasn't visited his homeworld since the beginning of this world's history. Being in the Dreamscape for so long has left him socially isolated; starving for attention . . . Has he explained this to you already?" She asked casually. Wallace raised his brow, fishing for answers in a lake of convolution. He responded as best he could. "Kind of . . ? He didn't really mention that directly, but I've almost wondered about it." Wallace replied. He lowered his eyes, thoughts flashing back to the towering woodland behemoth, glints of loneliness evident within the memory of Liambold's kindly features.

Wallace's golden eyes stared with contemplation, looking down at the billowing closeups of Rana's striped fur. "He talked about his world, and how it was a paradise. Really made me curious about what it looked like." He ruminated, staring off into the painted horizon. Rana mused with him, her vivid eyes glued to the forested distance. "Personally, I haven't visited our homeworld, but I can describe the stories I've heard from my father. My explanations just won't be as poetic as his." She continued. Her deerlike ears twitched as the wind roared over them. Wallace felt a wash of excitement, spurred by curiosity. "I'd like to hear it!" He urged, his lifting voice carrying through the rushing air. The charm of a better world called to him with a certain aesthetic, stirring his inquisitive mind. Rana's maw casually twitched at the curve. "I don't see why not. But the wind is loud, so listen carefully." She cautioned. "Alright. Go ahead." He encouraged, eagerly leaning in while seldom glancing down. Rana's adept mind sorted through her thoughts, organizing everything chronologically.

"Over the millennia's, father described many things to me about his homeworld when I was younger." She began, pulling details as they stared into the scenic wilderness. "The planet he comes from is called Nitár; a utopian world inundated with wildlife." She explained, curving a warm, nostalgic smirk that came with the memories of Liambold's stories. A musing stare spread over Wallace's face. "I guess that explains why everything was so lush when we met." He inferred, listening attentively. "Smart observation." She complimented, nodding pleasantly. "The vibrant flowers and skyscraping trees remind him of home, which is why you saw so many in his Dreamscape. Darkness and light both last eighty-four hours on Nitár, which forces extreme resilience on the plantlife." She explained, her casting shadow raking over her father's towering sentinels. Wallace couldn't help staggering at the details, eyes widening into circles. "Gods, that's a long time." He uttered in shock.

"Do humans sleep the whole night?" He questioned. Rana's brow lifted comically, not expecting such a silly question. "It's another world, so there aren't any humans. Just endless different species and inhabitants. Most are herbivores, while few are pescatarian, and none of them need sleep. Slumber is typically for relaxation, and considered a form of entertainment." She clarified, leaving him in a state of contemplation. Rana's brows furrowed, carefully observing her passenger as Wallace pondered. Something seemed strange to her, thinking on a curious tangent as Wallace ruminated. 'Is he really afraid of heights, or just . . . falling from them?' She wondered, thinking on an unrelated note. He wasn't jolting around like before, thanks to her finding a steady current of air to surf, keeping them from teetering up and down. Wallace was a tad more confident than yesterday, and it showed, but that was likely unrelated. Sharpening her mind, Rana analyzed his subtle mannerisms, which were now entirely placated. It was odd though . . . Surely, a mere distraction wasn't enough to assuage a phobia as intense as what she'd witnessed. Why wasn't he afraid anymore?

He blinked thrice, taken aback as a tone of awe laced his voice. "That's unthinkable . . . I can't imagine only sleeping for fun. But if it's only wilderness out there, then does that mean there's predators? What about their houses? Do people walk on two legs?" He asked rapidly, overwhelming her initial reverence. "Slow down. I'll answer two questions at a time, but that's it." She said, gently reining in the conversation. "Sorry." Wallace apologized, his cheeks flushing. "It's fine." She replied shruggingly, before promptly resuming. "As for houses, even living spaces are grown by an endless abundance of nature. Usually there's subterranean roots twisting into flat hollow spaces underground, which are used as homes. The roles of predators don't exist, since there's no hunger, thanks to plants providing plenty of proteins and nutrients. Malnourishment isn't even a concept, because the plants are fed by water and soil that are so rich, they heal almost any ailment. As a result, nobody there knows what affliction is." She explained, each word a brushstroke in his mind.

Wallace's eyes grew a nudge wider with every detail that filled his thoughts. "Gods, Rana . . . What the Hell's your dad doing here, and not on his world? That sounds like something humans would've written about in religious books . . . not that I buy that crap." He replied, wryly arching his brow. An amused smile crossed her face. "Actually, those books can be quite informative. Many secrets about my kind are hidden in historical records of religious texts." Rana shared knowingly. One word caught his attention, practically snapping away from a preoccupied look. "Wait . . . Historical?" Wallace questioned. His face froze in surprise, somewhat doubtful. She nodded, despite looking ahead. "Correct. But I digress." She said scrupulously. Wallace's fingers tightened, tugging lightly on her fur. "No-no, it's fine! Now I'm even more curious. What do you mean 'historical?' Aren't they all bedtime stories, just to shut kids up and keep them in line?" Wallace wondered, unknowingly pulling at her coat with eager inquiry.

"Not exactly. The Radiant Gods were a fabrication created by theocracies back in 1510. The poor believability of their insertion cultivated skepticism among the humans of this world. And as for the Beast-Folk; they just didn't care." She explained leisurely. At that rate, even Wallace's breathing sounded baffled, eyes shifting in thought. "Hold on, wait a minute! You're saying everything written in religious books is real . . . except for Gods?" He clarified, processing everything, albeit with a bit of strain. "That's not to suggest Gods don't exist . . . but yes. Ancient records are true, if not slightly exaggerated." Rana admitted. His absorption took a good minute, fixated and pondering as he hunched over in wonderment. "Wow . . . Not sure how I'm supposed to feel about that." Wallace's expression deepened. "You may feel however you'd like. I won't judge, unless it's a quip about humans." She calmly assured.

Wallace stared with an awed expression, crossed between appreciation. "Honestly, I didn't expect to hear this today, especially from a Dragon . . . but here we are, I guess." He admitted, his arms slapping his waist. "Do you believe it?" She asked, secretly biting back a hint of hope. His musings were quiet, answering after a pause. "Yeah. Kind of." He decided. "I've just never cared for theology, since my grandpa always hated religion. Every time I brought it up, he'd always go on a tirade, telling me it was all a power-play for fascist monarchies." He summarized. A funny titter rumbled from Rana's upper neck, alerting his attention. "What's so funny?" Wallace asked. Rana's mirthful utterance stopped, either grunting or clearing her throat. "Your grandfather must've been a wise man; likely ahead of the curve." She complimented. Wallace's eyes stared down, his mind drifting into the past. His eyes began to fill with longing, speaking in a bittersweet tone. "Yeah, he definitely was . . . I'll never stop missing that old geezer." He said with a falling voice.

A moment of quiet grief shrouded him, despite the wind's rapid blaring. His doleful inhibitions nearly settled on her muscles, provoking an urge to console him. "You know, Wallace . . . there's one more thing in religious texts that's also true." Rana teased, barely glancing back enough to brush eyes. Initially, he didn't catch her meaning, gripped by contemplation. One deeper thought later, it became apparent what she meant. "Oh." He said in mild realization. Wallace's hand slowly swatted the air. "Eh, don't bother trying to convince me. I don't care for that nonsense, even if it is real. Right now, Granpa Wally is six feet under the woods. I carried his coffin . . . set up his tombstone, and buried him with these two hands, all by myself. That's all the closure I'll need." He clarified, staring morosely in reflection.

Rana deadpanned just a smidge. "I think it would do you well to know he's in a better place, Wallace. Nobody who hasn't died can truly assume to know what comes before —or after— life." She said confidently. Wallace's brows narrowed into a look of question crossed with amusement. "I'll admit, Rana, I'm a little shocked. I didn't expect a spiritual lecture from a Dragon." He said mirthfully. "But no matter who you are, everything still requires proof." He challenged, shrugging briefly. As they flew, Rana's eyes glanced back with a confident, sidelong grin. "Sure, why not? I'll show proof after we've had our fun at Coal Cove and met the villages." She replied, her verdant gaze glinting casually. Wallace smirked wryly, shaded in perplexity. "Never a dull moment with your humor. But seriously though . . . I really mean it." He pressed, leaning forward. There was a gripping tension tightening in the air. She nodded once more, this time attentively at his ridiculing eyes. "I know. I'll show you after we're finished at the beach." She repeated casually.

The sound of her tone contrasted starkly with the sheer weight of her words. Wallace's mannerisms weakened, straining to keep a leveled expression. "You're being sarcastic, right? . . . That's a joke?" He questioned, tilting his head. Rana's tone and disposition flattened. "Wallace . . . I'm not being witty with you. After you've met the village settlements, you'll have physical proof of an afterlife in your bare hands." She said forthrightly. Wallace's questioning glare waned through a creeping sense of realization. "Oh my Gods. You're really not joking." He shook his head in disbelief. "How would you even show me?" He asked, plainly raising his brow. "You'll see. After we're done with today." She dismissed. Wallace scoffed ever so mildly. His nose slightly scrunched above a sardonic grin. "No way, I'm calling you out! There's no way you have proof!" He pointed accusingly. A short giggle rattled through her. "Seeing is believing, Wallace. Though I doubt you'd accept your senses straightaway." She teased again, smirking gently.

His skeptical frown evened out, widening into a smile, starting from partially snarky, to purely humorous. "I still don't believe you! Other worlds make sense, and so do Dragons . . . but conveniently invisible dead people, wandering around and floating? There's a limit to the absurdity." He acclaimed, flinging his arms. Rana nodded in understanding, but still couldn't stop smiling. "If you're having trouble believing in spirits, then your mind will break after seeing what else is out there. Besides, didn't you converse with my father's spirit?" She pointed out. Wallace's head shook. "I . . . wait . . . his spirit?" His attention sharpened as her tone of certainty grew. "What else? Father's body is literally Rethelia itself, and he's a lonely drake. Boasting billions of years of experience, he's found ways to communicate by entering the dreams of all who slumber in Rethelia. So you likely haven't seen the last of him." She forewarned. Persistence displaced Wallace's blank gaze as he shook his head. "That's good, because I have more questions for him! Does he visit your dreams too?" He asked, officially diverting the topic again.

Though he'd never admit it, there were some irrefutable biases, half of them driven by a desire to be right. He plopped belly-first over her lower neck, becoming more desensitized to the open sky as she spoke. "Of course. Every time I sleep in my cave, I go through the same process as you had . . . Except me and father talk for hours." She stated matter-a-factly. Wallace's face twisted into question, his head tilting like a curious kitten. "You both just talk, for hours? Wouldn't that get boring?" He asked frankly. She nodded. "In any case, I'm never easily bored. We pass the time sauntering seamlessly between each other's dreams, and sometimes we'll stumble upon the dreams of humans in Lurwelk, as well as Beast-Folk and animals." She explained, her neck curving around to see his reaction. A different sketch of Liambold's nature seemed to shift perpetually in his mind's eye. "Umm, what exactly is your father?" He asked, peering in disbelief.

Rana's eyes glazed over with reproof as she spoke. "A kind, but foolish drake." She said with irritation, as if slapping a harlequin's hat on the mental picture. "Father wanted to help humans live on this world, so he made a choice. That decision led to what you see below us; every single titanic tree in sight, is my oddball father." She clarified. Wallace's head tilted with perplexity, scratching it with his sharp nails. He wasn't going to look down, but still came to wondering. "I'm confused. Didn't you say humans were like your family? How's your father a fool if he provided them a place to live?" He asked. Rana sighed, not impatiently, but with mild sorrow. "Not everything's that cut-and-dry, Wallace. He could've waited until trees were planted, with that being the long-term goal." She said, vaguely complaintive. Wallace's limited brain could only picture a flock of Dragons flying above the heavens, raining down an array of seeds into rich soil. "How long would that have taken?" He asked humbly, tilting his head.

"Not long at all. About a week or two, with nothing but technology. We call it 'terraforming', which can be used as a way of enriching barren worlds." She imparted. Wallace's mind mused, eyes shifting in wonderment. "Wow . . . That's like the power of a God." He marveled. Wallace's primitive mind struggled, having no scientific point of reference. His brain gave up on trying to imagine such a concept, eventually reverting back to Liambold. "But . . . why'd Liambold transform into a bunch of trees, then?" He asked, squinting in question. There came that doleful sigh again, rattling the air. "Father's a bureaucrat. There were legal conditions involved with certain civilizations; specifically, a faraway race who thought they owned vacant stretches of space they'd never used." She imparted, causally getting a feel for the rolling winds under her wings. Wallace thought back on her general description of space, flashing a sardonic grimace. "How would someone claim to own empty space? I thought it was literally nothing!" He said, shrugging. Rana nodded, understanding his perspective. "It's generally the same as owning land. Nobody buys land without free space. That's what makes it valuable." She pointed out.

Wallace's eyes darted briefly in thought. "Oh . . . I guess that makes sense." He admitted, making room for inquiry. "So does that mean they were justified?" He asked studiously. She nodded in agreement. "Sort of. But it was a LOT of space. So much, in fact, it stretched past the limits of other worlds; planets that never relinquished ownership to them. My predecessors weren't allowed to terraform land without kicking up a fuss. The best way to protect their interests was by establishing life quickly. Then the other bureaucrats wouldn't be legally allowed to sanction our species." Wallace's face went plain. "I'm . . . not sure I follow. How does that prevent other people from messing with you?" He asked, cocking his head. Rana paused briefly in thought, trying her best to articulate an explanation. "Allow me to simplify: if a farmer tends to a cornfield, then what can they do to ensure nobody takes that land while they're not looking?" Wind blared in their ears as she awaited his answer, letting him think. "I don't know . . . maybe, start a family?" He guessed uncertainly. "No, that- . . ." Rana's eyes perked, correcting herself.

"Actually, yes, that's right. Settling makes it difficult for others to use their land. In my father's case, it legally bound our civilization to this world, since he became a part of it, technically making himself a denizen." She regaled, though only breeding more questions. Wallace frowned, fascinated, but also irritated. "What's so foolish about that? He sounds incredibly smart!" He argued. A sullen look fell over her. "We're Dragons. He didn't have to listen to them. We could've just taken this world without any resistance." Rana's head practically rolled with her eyes as she continued. "They could've stuck to an array of other options, but no . . . Instead of being a proper father . . . he indulged in his deluded plan." She said disparagingly, starting up a rant. "And what enrages me the most, is he always pretends like I'm the one who isn't coming to terms with reality!" Rana pointed her head down, looking directly at the forest below.

"Father decides to become an international forest in a Dreamscape . . ." Her voice sharpened, cutting through the blaring wind. "and he thinks that makes him omniscient, therefore right about everything!!" She exclaimed, throwing her voice into the woods. Rana's control wavered, her rant bubbling into rage as she quite literally yelled at her father below them. Wallace jolted, spooked by the abrupt explosion. Awareness sparked in Rana's eyes, shaking away her rage as clarity quickly returned. It was honestly bizarre, despite knowing the situation's context. The Dragoness had literally yelled at a forest. Wallace shook, dumbfounded as she simmered down. "But, you know . . . what's done is done. I get to see him every night I sleep, which is more than most Dragons of this world can boast . . . so I suppose it's fine." She rectified, her somber expression softening. Daddy issues aside, Rana regained her composure, leaving them both in awkward silence. Minutes passed quietly without a word. After mulling over the topics she'd mentioned during their flight, Wallace's chest couldn't help but sink . . . especially in light of grappling with some inner existential conniptions.

His gelatinous mortal brain was left juggling an array of diverse secrets. 'Expect to hear a lot of untold truths' Rana's quote echoed, coming from yesterday. Wallace squinted pensively. 'That's right' He thought, eyes shifting through his memory . . . she'd warned him about this. What'd already been foreshadowed was taking him by surprise, despite her foretoken. Wallace's hands remained on her shoulderblades, propping himself up as he stared with widening eyes, letting a consistent gust numb his face. "Gods . . . this'll be as good-a-day as any for the beach!" He said stressfully. Breaking their long pause proved obsolete, evident by the glistening blue sliver thickening over a lush horizon. "We're here!" Rana notified, glancing back one more time. Frigidness drifted along the air as they accelerated. His head perked up, tunnel-vision locked on a scenic sapphire slate.

"How are we gonna land!?" He shouted above the windy noise in his ears. Rana spoke casually, yet still piercing the billowing air. "You have an odd middle ear, so I'll descend as gently as possible. Sorry in advanced." She consoled. Wallace held on tight as she began to subtly tilt herself downwards. Two trembling fists squeezed either side of her torso, clenching fur and feather alike. The fear was practically palpable. Wallace couldn't choose wether he'd prefer speeding down to get it over with, or take a hellishly long time feeling his stomach sink. So he dropped both subjects from his mind entirely, forcing himself to endure the terror. "By the way, I wanted to ask; are you afraid of heights, or just falling from them?" She inquired. It wasn't a good distraction this time. Plus, his face was buried inside Rana's coat, an obfuscated voice sounding between her wings. "Frrlng frrm thm!" He muffled.

Rana quirked a half-grin, her brows rising with pity. "I understand . . . We're almost there. Just keep calm, and try to think peaceful thoughts." She kindly imparted. As they approached the jet-black sands of Coal Cove, its terrain spread into view. As they approached, the constant crowing of oversized seabirds faded into earshot. The skies were darkened, veiled by a layer of smoke trailing into mossy rows of nearby volcanoes. Tropical trees surrounded the hot mountains, lining a series of terraced waterfalls, each cascading one after another into clear bodies of bubbling spring water. Wide rivers of viscous lava divided the palmy bay from Rethelia's redwood regions, setting various hapless sprouts alight. This separated anyone trekking out from the Kingdom of Lurwelk, keeping them far away. Rana's hind claws scraped the tops of palm trees as they flew. Angling herself at a curve, she glid around the corner of a bay nestled between two eroding cliffsides.

Rana's dear passenger began to soften his tensing muscles. A dull 'thud' reverberated through him, causing his eyes to snap open. Wallace's ears twitched to the melodic swish of washing waves, but broke all solemnity with a pronounced jolt. The ocean's scenic beauty wasn't enough to calm his haste. Perking up, his body instantly scrambled towards the black embrace of Coal Cove. Not uttering a word, Wallace trembled with relief as he relished in a legitimate surface. Rana watched, quietly staring at him with a half-guilty smile. "Are you okay?" Her voice rumbled with mirthful sympathy. A series of abrupt chokes sounded out in sickening dry heaves. After he was done, Wallace remained hunched over, hand rising until his thumb stuck up. "Just a few seconds." He said sickly. Rana took her precious time letting him recuperate, until he pushed up, successfully squaring on his bare feet. After all that fuss, his golden eyes rounded out as he peered ahead, stunned by a veritable canvas of staggering beauty.

While the looming weather above them was rough, dark and gloomy, an amber glow slid through multiple parting clouds, shooting arrows of light through there celestial crevices. Below the heavens, matching terrains of dusky sand complimented a volcanic tropical landscape. Wallace's eyes wandered in silence, trailing the steam that coalesced in midair over nearly two-hundred hot springs. There mineral-rich waters bubbled between nature's lush serenity and a vast volcanic world. In that moment, Wallace felt something spark, evident by the silent mutterings on his lips. "Gods, Rana . . . You really weren't joking about this place." He said in astonishment. Nothing could've prepared him. Looking back, most of his life had been a mix of endless redwoods and castle-town urbanism. A simple waterfall climbing down a castle archway would've been enough to surprise him, let-alone the fiery charms of Coal Cove.

Wallace turned around with a newfound energy, fists clenching excitedly. His thoughts bubbled playfully at the gentle roll of black-tinted waves. He turned towards Rana, speaking almost giddily. "What a view . . . It's better than I imagined!" He said with sudden glee. She couldn't help but smirk, watching him take in the tropical scenery with obvious enthusiasm. Wallace's eye caught a crystal-clear view of the ocean depths, peering directly into yet another world; rainbowy fish swam purposefully alongside reflective silver eels, passing several transparent glassy flatfish. They each swam through speckled holes dotting an array of volcanic rocks, all imbedded within reaching fingers of flame-colored coral. The flatfish were nearly invisible with how clear they were, blending in with the black ocean floor beneath them. He could see it all, despite standing at an angle that glared with leaking daylight glittering against the waves.

This begged the question; "Is it safe to swim in?" He asked, glancing back hopefully towards the waves. To his joy, Rana nodded. "Marine life is timid and gentle here. Just be careful not to step on them." She cautioned. Knowing him, it was more a warning for his sensibilities than her's. Wallace tried to hold his excitement, but wasn't keen on hiding it. Flinging off his shirt without another thought, Wallace's feet gradually picked up pace. An amused smile quirked over Rana's jaw, watching his speedy footsteps dart towards the lapping waves. Suddenly, a silly thought popped in her head. "Wallace, wait for me! I'll join you soon, just let me undress!" She said with a straight face. Wallace stopped, still not thinking as he tilted a sidelong glance. "Oh, sorry Rana! I'll try to wait a bi-" He paused in realization, brow raising as his mind caught up. His stare fell sardonically. "Oh. Very funny!" He mocked happily. Rana's laugh came suddenly, reverberating through the black sand, and vibrating the water's clear surface.

He stopped abruptly, blinking twice in surprise as he stood over the muddy sand. It was his first time hearing an unsuppressed chuckle from the Dragoness; full-fledged and unmuffled. The aftermath of her laughter resonated within him, leaving a strong sensation of warmth. A blush spread over him, gawking with a tint of admiration in his eyes. "We can swim for awhile here, and nobody will see us." She mentioned, flashing a sly smirk. "Guess that means I'll be swimming with a beautiful Dragoness. You can swim, right?" He asked hopefully. Rana nodded, suppressing an array of excess emotions as she secretly blushed under her fur once more. "Yes, but when we leave this area of Coal Cove, we'll likely run into a few surprises." She forewarned, failing to stop her tail from wagging. Wallace's head tilted, blinking twice as he remained oblivious to her body language. "Surprises? What, like pirates?" He inquired.

Rana sauntered regally as she spoke, her claws curling into the black sand. "Like a village of people South of here. Most folks from Lurwelk haven't seen their kind before." She explained. A look of surprise sparked on Wallace's face, but it quickly faded into disappointment. "A village? Oh, great . . . so there's humans here. Can't have a world without parasites." He said sardonically. Rana's brow arched, hinting at assertion. "What do you mean, 'parasites'?" She questioned, her expression leveling. His eyes widened for a split second. "N-nothing!" Wallace stammered, his voice betraying a hint of panic. "Let's just say I enjoy your company more than my own kind. —To put it lightly." He elaborated, sweating subtly at his palms. Having accepted his answer quite quickly, she reverted back to her previous demeanor; calm and seasoned. "You don't have to worry about it. Their village is roughly ten miles away, so you won't be dealing with any human interferences." She replied. Her response lifted a veritable weight off his back. If nobody was going to bother them, then that's all he needed to know.

His expression calmed with fading bitterness. "You mean 'we'. 'We' won't be dealing with any human interferences. Sounds good!" He extolled, becoming placid as her words settled in. "Their village is a wonderful place, Wallace. They're very sincere, accommodating people. I predict you'll like them." She assured. Rana's thick tail swayed to-and-fro at her own statement, bringing a smile to his lips. He noticed in the back of his mind, she must've been looking forward to visiting that village. He scrambled for anything to say, only managing something of a disparaging nature. "Assuming they're not bigots, like Lurwelk's model citizens?" He asked with sarcasm. Her voice climbed slightly as she nodded. "It's not fair to assume, Wallace. They're settlers from Ember Dynasty; An incredibly equalist country." Wallace paused, slightly taken aback by the rare topic. A hint of skepticism marked his face. "Really? As in 'equality for all'?" He asked with uncertainty.

Rana smiled, wordlessly confirming his question. Wallace inched back in disbelief, his tone turning cynical. "Well, if they're human, let's hope they didn't muck that one up too." He complained, scowling lightly at the thought. "Don't worry, it's not like that either." She assured, pausing with a shade of concern. "You know, Wallace, sometimes people are just nice. There isn't always extra." She said insistently. His face fell, almost broodingly as he contemplated humans for the umpteenth time. "Sure, I'll take your word for it. But I won't get my hopes up." He said, growing quieter. Rana's head tilted demurely, knowing this was the closest she'd get to appeasing his misanthropy. "Just be sure not to stare when we see them. They're very different." She cautioned. He waved his hand carelessly, rolling his eyes. "Pfft. Humans are humans. Whatever they look like, I'm sure I won't be surprised." He dismissed. Rana muffled a giggle, quirking a fond smile. "I hope you're right. Wouldn't want to see you terrified again, would we?" She teased mirthfully.

Wallace irked quietly, nervously folding —then unfolding his arms, forcing a straight face. "People and falling are perfectly logical fears . . . especially people." He gaurded stubbornly. Rana turned around, tethering a sidelong glance as she ambled towards the pulling waves. "Thankfully, none are here, aside from us." She reminded. Black seabirds glid above them, crowing loudly, but never drawing too close. Rana's presence deterred all sentient life, inviting a sense of unadulterated privacy. It amused him to think how a full-blooded human might react to spotting them together. His imagination pictured an array of fearful commentary, and astonished looks, as well as the occasional hateful slurs that humans often favored too much. He stepped further towards the ocean, letting waves clean his sandy feet. "Well, if anybody does show up, I'm enjoying this beach first!" He exclaimed, eagerly facing the deepening waters. Rana reciprocated his excitement with her swaying tail. "No you won't." She said, feigning a casual look. His wry face narrowed for a moment, questioning her words.

Then Rana lunged, taking a long jump into the water. Her sudden motions sent a mighty brush of wind through his hair, ending in a large splash. When Rana's head surfaced, she glanced towards him, wearing a stretch of seaweed on her snout. Water rolled off her downy fur like tiny marbles as she spoke. "Because I'm enjoying it first!" She finished. Her spontaneity was palpable, effectively working a genuine laugh through his guts. "What?" He replied, chuckling through a grin. Wallace followed suit, enthusiastically leaping in with her. A comparably smaller splash sounded next to Rana as she treaded the ocean waves with her protracting wings and claws. She dunked her head down, scanning underwater to ensure his safety. Rana's eyes widened with surprise, reeling back as Wallace appeared to swim with expert precision, executing well-formed strokes as he deftly maneuvered himself. His open yellow eyes explored the seabed ramping into a colorful abyss of coral. Wallace playfully pushed himself towards a straying school of luminous fish, still holding his breath with an elated smile.

Before worry could overtake the Dragoness, his body rotated, retreating back for air. As he surfaced, Rana drew in close, eying him curiously. Her tail deployed on instinct, giving him something to latch onto, despite its pointlessness. Wallace never reached for it, treading the water tirelessly as he swam in place. Rana's brow arched, somewhat taken aback. "You can swim?" She asked, watching him shake the water off his blond hair. He blinked at her, speaking with blatant matter-a-factness. "I guess so . . . Why? Is that strange?" He asked casually. She nodded. "Not strange. Just rare for inlanders." She replied, her surprise fading into a soft smile. "Where'd you learn?" She asked, kicking closer. "I didn't. I mean, it's water, right? You just push it down and around." He said, shrugging nonchalantly. Rana's other brow rose, joining the one prior. "This can't be your first time swimming. Your form is professional." She assessed, slightly bemused.

Wallace's feet paddled joyously as he glid on his back, creating minimal splashes. "Nope! This is my first time! Never swam in my life, up until now!" He cheered. His body swayed up and down, enjoying the raw power lifting him in each wave. Rana's eyes followed his motions, watching him dive deep, like nothing could be easier. "You must've swam before at some point, and forgot about it. Either way, I don't have to worry as much about you drowning now." She said, showing subtle relief. Wallace wasn't listening, growing more absorbed with the lukewarm waters. He happily surveyed the aquatic world beneath them, eyes catching on everything that moved. "Wallace?" Rana called, tilting her head in relative silence. Her eyes followed his lithe form swimming below. "By the Gods, he really likes this place." She said aloud. An accomplished smile spread over her face. It felt nice, ruminating on the successful fruits of her efforts.

Her gaze shifted pensively in admiration of this outcome. 'This could really go somewhere.' She thought hopefully, waiting for him to resurface. Once his head came up, she treaded over, nudging him playfully with her muzzle. "You're it." She said, quirking a sly grin. "I'm what-now?" He questioned. Rana's neck craned down, plunging into the deep, bringing her whole body along with it. Wallace parted his wet hair in confusion, ignorantly letting her escape. "Do I chase you?" He asked aloud, watching her twist and twirl underwater. He dove after her, testing to see if she'd swim away. Wallace held his breath, pushing towards the smoldering green orbs of light moving gracefully on Rana's face. She floated in place, waiting patiently, only to lurch back the moment his arm extended. A short snicker muffled through the water as she smirked. Innocently frustrated, Wallace retaliated with a forward jolt, swiftly spearing his hands through the water. Rana didn't expect to feel his finger brush her tail. They weren't too deep, though she kept a keen eye on him regardless.

Worry buzzed through her mind, especially with how fast he was going. Exerting that much energy would heighten his body's demand for oxygen. Strangely enough, Wallace didn't seem fazed one bit. Rana's mind remembered the last time they'd kissed, recalling how he'd lasted a full minute. Nonetheless, she still couldn't help but worry, counting each second down the clock. Then he swam away, straying even further from the ocean's surface. Rana blinked twice with surprise, watching him speed off. 'Does he understand the game already?' She thought. So far, fifty seconds had passed. Her eyes widened, reeling at his lung capacity. Wallace smirked as he darted away, unaware of how long he'd been underwater. Fiery green flecks spread over her tail and feet, generating toe-webbings, along with a broad tail-fin. She sped after him, cutting through the weak currents as several dorsal fins sprouted atop her back. Puny fish retreated beneath the coral, spurred into hiding by Rana's one swift motion launching her thirty meters in all but two seconds.

To her astonishment, Wallace dodged. Her brow arched, connecting their eyes for a moment. His feet kicked in line with the current as he turned around, riding it swiftly away from her. Rana's eyes popped again, now in fear, measuring his velocity and trajectory combined. Her wings readily stroked like arms, propelling after him twice as fast. Regardless, a minute and ten seconds passed in total. She could feel her worry bubbling up. Lunging close to his feet, her arms and fingers curled, attempting to latch on. Wallace made haste, swimming downwards. However, a gargled voice vibrated the water, like a roar split between a yell. "Wrrrace! Strrrp!" The noise rattled his organs, causing him to turn around and shoot a perplexed glare. Rana beckoned him urgently with her arm and head. He grinned with a hint of mischief. A few strokes downward, and he darted deeper towards the decorated seafloor. Rana's maw hung open in disbelief. It'd been two and a half minutes of robust swimming.

The grainy black seafloor rested inches below their feet. The surface's twilight glimmered, wavering eighteen meters above them. A stern grimace of unease spread over her face, before grabbing his wrist and steadily propelling them upwards. Her tail pushed under his feet for support as they skyrocketed towards the shimmering surface. Wallace looked down at her, somewhat confused, but chiefly amused. A sharp gasp punctured the water as they emerged. Regaining breath, Wallace arched his brow, playfully smiling at Rana as her head popped up beside him. Her sight hadn't left him for a second, even as water dripped from her corneas, like rain crawling down a glass. His smile faded, dawning the realization of how stern her eyes were. "Wallace, be careful!" She scolded, causing him to flinch from the volume. His expression shifted from concern, to laughable pity. "Calm down, Rana. I wasn't going to drown." He argued, lifting a dismissive shrug. "Hell, I've held my breath for five minutes before, and nothing happened. This is no different." He explained. Rana's face paled with horror, baffled by his claim.

"Swimming underwater for three minutes could've killed you, let-alone five! You could've lost consciousness and drowned!" She rebuked, arching her neck closer with each word. What smoldered beneath Rana's exterior was much worse. Internally, she was practically boiling, thankfully letting none of that genuine rage leak. His bare shoulders shrugged from the water. "Oh no, I didn't mean underwater. Sometimes, holding my breath gets me closer to game. Living free from taxes isn't easy, so I've gotta adapt." He said, as if describing the most basic action. Rana's neck rumbled a deep growl into the surrounding ocean, reverberating a palpable anger through his body. "That can permanently damage your brain." She said, calmly seething through a deadpan look. "Damage it how?" He asked, looking up at her obliviously. Rana's claws reached up, raking over her face as she sighed. "Human lungs need what's in the air in order to replenish their brains. It helps with thinking and control." Rana said knowingly, tapping his head with her index claw. "What's inside here should be protected." She added firmly, staring into him with intent. Wallace briefly glanced away, looking somewhat embarrassed. "Hey, I know that! I'm not five! . . . I just didn't know air went into our brains too." He corrected. Rana nodded semi-seriously. "That isn't what I said . . . but nevermind. Close enough." She answered. Her wings shrugged as she released a long sigh.

She didn't want to seem overprotective or domineering, but what else was a drake to do? Briefly musing, she thought of something practical. "From here-on-out, can you at least limit holding your breath to a minute?" She requested. Rana's neck arched, nestling the top of her muzzle into his face. "Please?" She begged demurely, hoping to the Gods it would work. Wallace smiled affectionately, his heart softening with each fuzzy nudge. The water hadn't stuck to her fur either, simply rolling down and back into the sea. So cozy to the touch . . . He nodded, decidedly indulging in her embrace as his hands caressed the Dragoness' temples. "Alright. Fine. I'll keep it as short as I can." He agreed, subtly straining his words. He was putty to her charms, melting in the grasp of a warm, loving beast looming against him. The water's tepidity blanketed their embrace, leading to a rise in temperature. Butterflies swarmed Rana's stomach as they nestled close, feeling each other's accelerating hearts.

An uninvited physical bliss crawled around her. Cinders of heat crept up, smoldering within, and gradually evolving into full-fledged pangs of need, which she could physically feel in the form of a pressure. While externally sophisticated, Rana's beastly spirit roared in silence, crying with the fiery might of a Dragoness. Her claws began to tremble, slowly reaching around his waist from below, yet never touching. A strained, almost pained expression tightened on her face. After some concentration, Rana gradually reigned in that intimate urge. Wallace just happened to witness each of Rana's expressions in every stage. He hiked his brow in question, showing noticeable concern. She'd been fighting an invisible force hidden away within herself; rearing up to pounce on the handsome boy at any moment her control might've wavered. Wallace's worried eyes blinked twice, feeling the rattle of her trembling muscles. "Are you okay?" He asked, his eyebrows loosening. She didn't seem to answer, only pausing to ogle down at him with an endearing expression, crossed between a barely restrained leer.

Wallace flinched, taken aback by her sudden change in demeanor. "By the Gods . . . Rana?" Was all he could ask, his face reddening like a beat. Rana's heated breaths puffed over his neck, her verdant eyes gazing luminously into his. Finally, she broke the melodic tone of swishing waves. "Wallace." She addressed him gently, reigning in his full attention. With the vulnerable tone of a single word, the air thickened around them. That same tension seized his focus, stretching every second along as her piercing gaze blinked. Rana's shifting eyes appeared more nervous than ever before, pushing herself to speak. "I was thinking . . . When dusk falls, there's one more thing I wanted to do tonight. —Together." She mentioned. Immediately, an alarm went off in Wallace's mind. Just not exactly one of terror. It had been tucked within the darkest recesses of his mind all day, gathering dust. Was she really going to say it . . . out loud? He nodded anyways, his heart still booming like an active volcano. "What is it?" He asked with a trembling voice.

Rana's smile emanated a caring warmth, lifting his hands out of the water and enclosing them in her's. "When the moon comes up, I'd like to share a night of passion . . . with us beneath it." She proposed. Already closeup, she accentuated her offer with a rising tailtip, caressing languidly along his cheeks. A wide-eyed stare filled out his flushing face. Wallace reeled back in the water, immediately feeling a warm shiver run down his spine. The moment had changed so quickly, yet so slowly. "You mean . . ?" Wallace asked, trailing off. He crossed a smirk between fear and fondness. Rana nodded, looking about half as nervous. Wallace blushed, Trying not to think about it too directly, struggling to fight off a tinge of visible arousal growing in his shorts. He felt the need to place his arms subtly in order to cover it up . . . however, that wasn't about to be necessary. They both emanated all kinds of heat, at that point basking in the passion of each other's presence.

If anyone had ever seen a series of streams flowing in one river; different makeups of water never coalescing as they ran side-by-side, then they'd understand how Wallace felt: This was like those rivers, each representing a separate emotion, yet refusing to merge. Inferiority rushed besides indelible love. Desperate to merge with the latter two— loneliness, courage and lust ran their immutable currents across them in parallel. While the disparate rivers of his mind mixed briefly, it was never permanent, sweeping him up and drowning him in a quiet panic. His waterlogged palms began to sweat, luckily masked by the soaking waves. He found it hard to look her in the eyes now, his face lowering modestly in a state of bashfulness. He hid just behind her claws, which gently clutched his hands. Wallace's voice shook lightly in contrast with his trembling arms, forcing himself to gaze into her piercing green eyes. "You'd want that?" He asked breathlessly, his expression lighting up halfway.

Rana nodded again, this time in earnest. "I really want to. It's been on my mind all day." She explained, eagerly pulling him in towards her chest. The water splashed between them, slapping his cheek every now and again as she held him there. Wallace hugged back, smiling as a tender warmth filled out his chest. He looked up, smiling nervously as the burning in his cheeks intensified . . . along with something else. "Ever since our last day in that cave, I've had strong feelings for you too." There came a suspicious pause, as if he were contemplating another topic. "It's honestly kind of eerie how easily I fell for you." He admitted, blushing deeply, but not facing away. Rana's tail wagged through the water, accidentally propelling them a few inches. Feeling her unsoakable soft fur paired with the weightlessness of tepid waters was a unique sensation all on its own. A hint of relief leaked through her restful sigh. Wallace didn't notice, suddenly transfixed over her semi-aquatic features. "You make one beautiful fish." He changed the subject with a smile, scanning her over with rapt curiosity.

She snickered lightly, vaguely pleased with herself. "It's my aquatic form. Scales feel uncomfortable on me, so I keep my fur. I also keep my face and horns, mostly for the aesthetic." She explained. Wallace regarded her with fascination, depsite the goofy thought of Rana with bulging fish eyes. "Well Gods, I'm glad you decided not to get a fish's head. I'd have trouble holding back my laughter." He gave a sunny grin, watching her mirthfully reciprocate. Rana pulled away, just enough to connect their eyes again. "Speaking of fish . . . How would you feel if we took a trip into the deep sea?" She asked, languidly slithering her tail around his shoulder. Wallace reeled slightly, staring up at her with rapt inquisition. "Deep sea? Wait, are you talking about way deep down underwater . . . where it's dark?" He asked, inquisitively pondering. Rana nodded casually. "Yes. Hundreds of yards below." She replied, quirking a warm smile. Wallace blinked twice, stuck on what to think. "I'm not really sure. I mean, what's it even like down there?" He questioned, nervously glancing at the ocean's expanse.

Rana's wings fenced over him, as if guarding a priceless treasure. "I have ways of guaranteeing you won't faint from the pressure. And I can promise the scenery is worth the trip." She assured. Rana's wings shielded the light from all sides, bringing out her glowing green eyes within its confines. This granted Wallace a detailed look of every luminous, contracting facet within her corneas. It wasn't hypnosis, but there was little difference as his heart thrummed into overdrive. Unable to rip away, he spoke in a besotted tone. "Would . . . I be the first human to see it?" He asked, suddenly enraptured as her ocular glow pulled in his attention. "That depends how you look at it. Only a handful of humans and Beast-Folk have already discovered the ocean's deepest depths together, but that doesn't mean they discovered everything." Her claws gently reached in, caressing his temples. She continued to do this as they spoke, until a subtle vibration rumbled from his flesh, and into her hand.

She couldn't keep her claws off of him. Wallace tried and failed at feigning indifference, speaking with a casual tone that betrayed his body's affectionate expressions. "I've . . . mmh . . . never heard of them. Do you know their names?" He asked, throat straining to stop its needless purring. Wallace's hidden claws drew out, kneading into her, much to his conscious embarrassment. Just as she replied, he timidly withdrew them, covertly suppressing an insecure frown. "It's not recorded in history, but I've seen Emberlites and Beast-Folk come back from long expeditions together. They were always excited to write down their findings." She informed. Wallace shook out of his daze, regaining some control as he gave a questioning glance. "That doesn't make sense. How in the Hell could anyone dive that far?" He asked, switching moods with a strong and sudden inquiry. He found himself temporarily blinded by the partially veiled sun as Rana leaned backwards. Her body rotated, glancing back expectantly as she floated hafway above the water.

Laying submerged, she presented her wings, eyes focused on him with glinting invitation. "If you want to know, then hop on, and we can see firsthand." She urged, gesturing with her head. His approach began with reluctance, limbs pedaling lazily towards her, as if warily. "Okay . . ? You're not going to take off into the air again, are you?" He probed, tilting a cautious look. "No," she nodded. "We'd be going underwater. Our descent won't be as sudden, so you'll be fine. It's your call, if you'd like to go under." She offered. Her eyes exuded a caring demeanor, crossed with undertones of anticipation. "Didn't you want me to stop holding my breath for too long?" He asked, squinting in confusion. Rana smirked. "Don't be afraid. I'll show you an idea that involves my shapeshifting. Then you can choose wether or not we dive down." She explained.

Wallace pondered her offer. He peered down into the ocean's depths, watching all of its scenic color dip into a steep, ramping abyss. The distant darkness moaned at him from below, yet it was nothing compared to plummeting through an endless sky. After a long pause of bobbing in the waves, his face lifted. He mustered his courage, tensing up momentarily. "Alright, let's head down . . . I'm curious to see how you do this." He decided, surrendering to the call of curiosity. Kicking over, Wallace's toes scaled her outstretched wing. Using her winged membrane, she helped him up, feeling his knees spread as he sat down. Wallace got comfy, correctively shifting to secure his balance. Rana arched her neck around, briefly checking on him. "This trip will be unlike anything you've witnessed. Are you well and ready?" She asked, concealing a tinge of excitement. He nodded. "Let's go."

Without further ado, the dorsal fin standing between his legs retracted into her back, leaving a smoldering patch of green. Rana slowly bent her wings above him, touching the creases together and melding them into a thin organ that arched over Wallace's head. The fusion cast a verdant glow, letting that same green light drop like a curtain, until bottoming out against Rana's sides. Wallace beheld her transformation with awestruck eyes, realizing he'd been encapsulated by a strange and luminous film. He blurted a question without thinking. "What is this?" He asked in bewilderment. Rana's reply sounded out as the embers cooled off around him, shedding into a transparent globe. "Feel it." She suggested, her voice muffling from the outside. Intrigue brought his wet fingertips to the clear wall. The texture was soft and dense, like a snake's skin fused with a jellyfish.

The moisture from his fingers soaked inwards, absorbing into Rana's bizarre, wingless dome. A smile of scrutiny and awe spread across his cheeks. "It's like I'm inside one of those flat fish, but rounder." He marveled, his mouth cracking open. Rana's chuckles vibrated beneath him, spreading a sudden redness across his cheeks. "Interesting parallel." She voiced. "This dome will keep you safe from drowning while we're swimming. That way, you can just relax and watch the fish while we descend." She replied, her voice fusing with the air. Wallace's chest warmed, unable to properly express his appreciation from inside the dome. The globe thickened, alllowing a row of three fleshy flaps to form above. They were non-obstructive to the view; a pair of thin, transparent apertures connected down into subtle slits opening up on either side of him. "Those gills above you will provide enough air while we're going down." She informed.

Wallace's heart raced with building excitement, watching the world rise above him as she dipped down halfway. "This is what the view will look like while we're swimming." She demonstrated. A lens of definition popped out of the seabed. The vibrant, fiery colors of coral contrasted against an array of turquoise and indigo anemones.

He could see additional species of fish adorning the atmosphere, as if only existing now. A large, spiral-shelled mollusk with black tendrils swam backwards, chasing a young eel wriggling in front of them. In back of Wallace's mind, he felt like one of those cats pressed up against an aquarium tank, eyeing everything that moved. Rana's voice rumbled around the dome, causing him to jolt from his mesmerized state. "I have some good friends at Coal Cove's settlement. What do you say we visit them after we're done with this?" She asked. Her nebular green eyes glanced through the barrier. Somehow, it felt like begging as she aimed a besotted smile. He felt a tinge of discomfort at the prospect of conversing with other humans. However, the warmth he felt radiating from her caring eyes slowly diluted any uncertainty. He felt a pleasant flutter in his stomach, becoming lighter, until capitulating to her whims. Again, not hypnosis, but close enough . . . This was love.

"I guess it couldn't be any worse than Lurwelk." He admitted, affectionately gazing ahead, and into her eyes. "So we can get there from underwater after we're done?" He continued, leaning forward. Rana paused briefly, thinking on it. "Of course." She said, nodding through a tone of certainty. In actuality, she hadn't thought of the idea, despite its basic efficiency. Lacking any shirt, Wallace possessed a toned physique that caught her eye just right within the aquatic lighting. His blond hair and golden eyes practically glowed within the twilit dome, keeping that side of her head tilted enough to keep looking down that chiseled abdomen. Suddenly self-conscious, Rana noticed how strangely she was acting. Her head shook, turning away with concern. Her eyelids fluttered, surprised at the skyrocketing pace of her arousal. 'Gods, get a grip, Rana. Don't get too distracted.' she thought to herself, turning back and fondly smiling at his look of wonder. Wallace's golden eyes buzzed through her sight, emanating a hypnotic aura similar to her own. Much to his ignorance, she slowly sank into those topaz orbs. Her head drew closer, instinctively opting to show some affection, but then she remembered the wall. "Are you okay?" Came his voice, regarding her with a tilted head.

Her face carefully nuzzled the dome on impulse. "Better than okay." She hummed calmly. The waves rocked them as he smiled back with mirth. "I can't wait until the end of today." She added. Her tail languidly slithered over the buoyant sphere, fondly wrapping around it, as if possessively. He could still see those kind, verdant spheres gazing back through the coiling spaces between her elongated tail. Wallace's reply got caught in his throat. How was he supposed to respond? "I . . . M-me too." He stuttered out, thinking for a better reply. Thoughts of Rana's cozy fur infiltrated his mind, melding with explicit fantasies. "If there's a way, maybe we can pass the time underwater, doing . . . you know." He suggested. Part of him panicked at what he'd said, kicking himself for having the audacity to ask. Wallace shook mildy with excitement, imagining the prospect of intimacy with such a beautiful creature.

His claws unknowingly kneaded into her downy coat, relieving some excess anxiety from the shame he felt. However, Rana's presence instilled a sense of peace, easing his burden. Water rippled over his view, revealing an adorned seafloor drawing ever closer. His heart pounded, looking towards the rising aquatic wilderness, all so he wouldn't see her reaction.

Her heartbeat pounded around him like thunder. As emotions welled up inside Rana's chest, his proposal threatened to breech her control. She strained to keep herself calm, claws visibly shaking. "Wallace, that offer is the best thing I've heard today." She extolled excitedly. But sadly, her face fell neutral, remembering the plan she'd set out. "But we still have to wait until nightfall, when the moon is full. I want to make our time together special." She replied, trying not to look saddened. The temptation poked at her like an irritating sticker. Not only did she feel certain 'urges' tingling around her, but logic also dictated they were less likely to be bothered making love underwater . . . specifically by Fel. Despite knowing how much that cat loved throwing a wrench in romance, this was the best chance she had. An anxious frown pressed over her face as she mused over that knowledge.

Then, like a lantern, an idea lit up in her head. Rana's expression lifted, her tail wagging enough to rock them back and forth as they sank. "Actually, on second thought, I have an idea." She said cordially. Wallace leaned forward a bit, feeling some excess energy charge through his legs. "Another one? Lurwelk's entrepreneurs would love you." He said humorously. Rana snickered, glancing at him with mirth in her voice. "You think so?" She questioned, proudly raising her brow. "I did do their great grandparent's taxes . . . and helped with their corporate lending loans." She boasted, smirking back.

Wallace's expression grew, matching her own. There was something he loved about the way she spoke of finances. Maybe it wasn't conventionally romantic, but he couldn't help getting a warm, fuzzy feeling in his chest. However, when he turned to gaze into Rana's eyes, he suddenly blinked thrice, seeing no part of her head or neck. His eyes fearfully shifted, instantly searching for her. "R-Rana?" He called, stupefied. His body turned, looking in every possible angle. His surveillance stopped, nearly missing the olive light fading in her stead. Rana's spinal curve stretched beneath him, her flesh beginning to flatten and expand. A dim, viridescent glow emanated in unison with every shifting cell below him. It all focused into one focal point, until the floor pulsed with light. Her energy solidified, plucking a luminous green orb that rose from the soft surface.

Wallace arched his brows, enough to widen his eyes. "Umm . . . Rana?" He called, half-questioning the connected sphere of light. Little to no warning came as her voice echoed from the phenomenon. "Since you look so comfy in here, I think I'll join you." She insisted. Wallace tilted his head, perplexed, scooching back nervously as flesh and fire swirled around the dome like a primordial snowglobe. The entire structure swiveled slightly, reinforcing both its size and volume. Taking enough free space to fill a water tower, Rana's fiery faculties molded into flesh; four draconic feet bordering an ivy light between her claws and the "floor's" fuzzy surface. Each individual hair seemed to gravitate towards her steps, like flaming ironsand sticking to a magnet. Her cusps and curves smoldered into detail with every faculty intact, generating another tail that slithered and wound around him like a giant serpent. Rana's luminous form crescented around him, nuzzling into his bare chest with her warm muzzle.

Her mossy white horns sprouted like plants, then a pair of verdant eyes, next to gleaming fangs and an array of aesthetic beige stripes. Her features gathered definition the more they cooled off, not unlike a strange, benign magma. As they descended, staying careful not to accelerate past a certain limit, Wallace held her chin as it nestled in his lap, beaming in a welcoming state. "This is much better." She replied, matching his contented expression. He nodded calmly in agreement, desensitized to her initially frightening transformations. Wallace found himself deeply transfixed with the random forms of sea-life squirming past them. He petted Rana's fuzzy scalp, palm gliding between her horns with each stroke. Even cats weren't this soft. Despite the moment's tender silence, he'd be lying if he denied the underlying sense of foreboding. Every exotic formation appeared to suffuse beneath that dark threshold of fading ripplelights, increasingly weighing on his troubled mind. Rana's cosmic green eyes repossessed his attention with ease, speaking softly. "How are you feeling?" She asked, raising her head to his level. A paranoid pitch rose in his voice. "Fine. I-I'm just not sure how I feel about being pulled into an abyss." He answered, occasionally breaking eye-contact, wary of the endless shadows writhing beneath them. Wallace's body pressed up against her's as they stared down. An enlivened smile spread across Rana's features. Extending a claw, she invitingly pulled his head in, letting it nestle into her fuzzy tuft; a fluffy paradise.

An almost abrupt sensory bliss warmed his features, making him lighter as they shared an embrace. His fingers curled into Rana's unreasonably soft fur, kneading along her torso. "But . . . it really doesn't matter. With everything you've done, you've definitely earned my trust, so . . ." He trailed off, feeling a bit embarrassed, his eyes shifting self-consciously. 'Why am I so awkward?' he thought, questioning himself in silence. Rana thought otherwise, her nebular green eyes fluttering down at him, curving a wise and generous smile. "Even after that flight?" She replied, smiling hopefully. Her tail twitched around their intimate coupling with excitement, as if attempting to wag. "I'm so happy you trust me that much." Her eyes glinted with a euphoric endearment that warmed his chest. That same heat climbed into his shying face as he blinked up at her glinting emerald eyes, hardly believing how beautiful she was. Rana's claws drew close, cupping under his thighs and scooping him up. His muscles seized upon feeling himself lift. What counted for fur on the back of his neck raised instinctively, like a puma's hackles. However, it leveled back down as she stroked the back of his head, expertly sending waves of comfort through Wallace's nerves. She held him there in a lasting moment of intimacy, burning with admiration as they basked in each other's vivid eyes.

With that, their tender embrace proceeded into minutes, until time began to fade from their minds. They lulled into a shallow sleep, yet never deep enough to fully enter the Dreamscapes beyond reality. A soothing vibration reverberated from Wallace's throat, traveling through the Dragoness' slender bulk. Upon sensing the gratified noise, her curtained eyes cracked open, raptly observing him. For the sake of his pride, Rana bit against a giggle, preventing it from emerging. Just to see him like that, it struck her hard with a profound sense of fondness . . . among other feelings she didn't expect to be slipping from her control. "There we are. Be sure to get nice and comfortable." She coaxed, dreamily zooming in on his golden eyes and focusing there a moment. "I'll be slowing down the deeper we go. Our descent will last roughly an hour. So maybe, during that time, we can . . . 'try a few things'?" She offered, releasing her breath in surrender. Behind the placid mask of calmness, a burning desire flickered in her eyes, briefly revealing itself. Wallace's eyes popped, especially as those last two sentences seeped into his head. 'Try a few things . . . for an hour?' He thought, taken aback as his pupils shifted, heart racing suddenly. His legs simply dangled there in the regal beast's arms, mesmerized by her imposing stature, as if floating in space. His already speeding heart galloped, pondering what to say. For a moment, he quietly gazed into the eyes that offered him so much comfort, now unable to reply. As deep, intimate thoughts swirled and manifested, other pleasant pressures began to make themselves known . . . namely, below his waist. Her breath drew closer, its heat increasingly flowing like a warm blanket over his lower abdominals. Subtle anxiety buzzed through Rana's heart as she stood on her back feet, patiently awaiting his reply.

After seven long seconds of searching for a sentence, Wallace's head shook, snapping him from his mind's foresights. On the dome's exterior, Rana's gill ventilation sped up, deliberately allowing her to glean more oxygen. Right now, it was her only equivalent of taking a nice, deep breath. A twinge of nervousness irked at her, building up in hope of an answer. "Or if you don't want to . . . we can just-" Wallace interjected on impulse, absentmindedly reaching up to stroke his palm up her face. She stopped talking, letting his voice imbue a wave of relief through her fur. "I'd love to." He said contentedly, caressing his thumbs along the top of her snout.

Her tail wiggled throughout the vessel, unable to wag properly within its confines. Hiding her surfeit joy wasn't easy anymore, letting it all flow into a beaming smile. She attempted to speak normally, though with a wavering voice. "It won't be sex! Just . . . other things, for now." She clarified. Wallace perked up. "I'm okay with that!" He replied, leaning up somewhat eagerly, kicking a pounding drum in his chest. Rana's eager smile regained its confidence. She kept her wagging tail curled around them, thumping like a seizing snake, sending a dull tremor through their private vessel. "Good! We'll have plenty of time too. So just lay back, relax your shoulders . . . and . . ." Rana paused, sounding a blissful hum as her claws dexterously guided him down, resting his neck over her soft tail. Her swiveling appendage looped back around as his neck settled against its midpoint.

The endmost part swept gently under his chin, ministering a long, intimate stroke as their eyes pierced each other, igniting a harmonious flame in their chests. Her muzzle drew in, nudging just under his ear, speaking breathily as she finished her sentence. "just let me pamper you." She crooned, trailing a faint rumble. Wallace's expression went blank, aside from the embarrassment reddening his cheeks. He laid face-up as her forelegs perched on either side of him, beaming an angelic smile of ever-deepening admiration. Rana's eyes stopped inches above him, casting a lime-tinted light over his features. The human's blood pumped rapidly, driving a pounding euphoria through his chest and loins, reaching peak excitement as Rana's head closed in. Her every intimation and movement was deeper than usual; more intimate and heartfelt. Her angling motions pressed forward with precision, pushing hard into his lips as their mouths interlocked.

Rana's claws were dexterous and nimble, scooping so tenderly under his head, he barely knew until she started pulling him in further, intensifying their intimacy. He could feel her rumbles quaking through his lips, reverberating in a slow transition down his throat. After a gentle wave of turning heads and muffled utterances, Rana's tongue carefully tested its boundaries, intermittently breeching the cusp between their eager lips. He didn't seem to mind —and in fact, thoroughly enjoyed it, apprising with a moan to boot, officially washing away her thinning anxieties with a final wave of relief. She didn't think he'd mind it anyways. A reel of surprise took him after she broke away. This time, she was the one hyperventilating, likely holding her breath to avoid inflating his lungs. Wallace grabbed the ankle of her foreleg for leverage, eyes widening in surprise to feel just how much she was quivering.

He leaned up to check on Rana's state, seeing twice the severity with her trembling hind legs. She gazed into his topaz orbs, chest rising and falling, her whispering voice hoarse with need. "Wallace . . ." was all she could say, cooing his name with an irrepressible passion. His blush deepened, gawking momentarily with dinnerplates for eyes. In that moment's heat, he vaguely noted a peculiar detail. She'd sized down again without him realizing, just enough to have her front feet at either side of his shoulders, with her hind claws nudging precisely under his toes. He sat up, his forehead accidentally bumping into her chest tuft, then looked ahead. His eyebrows peaked with concern, checking her overall well-being. "Rana, you're shaking . . . are you feeling okay?" He asked naively. Rana's eyelids fell slowly, a haze of carnal warmth glistening in her eyes. "I . . . I can't pretend anymore." She said, conceding a vulnerable look, the sheer thrum of need hammering against the base of her skull. At that rate, watching the heat of passion warm her face, Wallace wondered as much as Rana if she'd actually break her word.

(End Of Chapter 2)