FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

You tilt your head up toward the motherstar, contemplating. Such a divisive decision to make. If you spend time with the wyverness, your bound to give up progress on learning the island and that is undoubtedly your main objective here. Still, it's a trade of knowledge and, one way or another, you need more of it. The kobolds that somehow live here represent your best source of potential information and your most direct avenue to them is through her. Your course of action decided, you waste no more time debating it.

"So you prove my point even further; just as you protect your frjals'fraendi so do I with my minni'sjalfur." You leave the air open for her to retort and you can almost feel her trying to come up with something to say. Instead of leaving her to flounder, you decide to continue. "They even worship you as mine do me."

The words were intentionally designed to rouse her and did their job quite adequately. Another step out of the bush had her halfway revealed in the sunlight. It was treading a line no doubt.

"They don't worship me!" She spat.

"Oh?" Your quick quip back catches her a little off guard. "So the young Aether who came to your rescue, ready to throw herself on me to assist you doesn't think greater of you?"

"She's just my friend!" You can tell she's getting frustrated but you continue on, inflection neutral as if just stating facts.

"Do you know her hatching day?" Her silence speaks for itself. "Or how many seasons she's lived? Could you tell me the name of her mate or if she has any young of her own?"

"I... No!" She spoke defiantly as if the questions had no relevance. Your head turns to the side slightly, looking at her with one crimson eye.

"I would wager my tail she could tell you date you were hatched. Not because she was alive when it happened but because it feels important for her to know. When you return to the village, do the younglings flock to you yet always keep a respectful distance? Have you ever asked a kobold to do something for you and been turned down?"

You can see her searching for an instance where you are wrong and, for a brief moment, it looks like her pride might lead her to lie just to make you incorrect. Instead she just puffs.

"What's your point wyrm?" She spits the derogatory term at you, using it as a shield.

"No point." You respond casually, turning back and closing your eyes. "It is no fault of your own, it is just how I made them." You can feel her brain break at that admission. Then she starts laughing out loud.

Not exactly the response you were expecting.

"You... you think you made them?"

It would be a lie to say her dismissive remark of your accomplishments with the minni'sjalfur didn't make you bristle somewhat but letting her sneak under your scales would be counterproductive. She is little more than a whelp isolated from the world on a floating island, she can't be blamed for being naïve.

"It is perhaps a minor overstatement to say I created them as a whole. I found them as desolate miserable creatures dwelling in their dank swampy cavern holes. Hunted by everything, they feared everything, even the light of the motherstar. Once I elevated them from the dying species of cave rats they once were, I feel it a reasonable to say I created the that which survives and thrives to this day."

You can't tell if her silence is to try and absorb what you've told her or dismiss it.

"If I had not, I can say with some certainty that their kind would not exist. Those who did not follow my call have long since perished beyond memory."

"Wait, so... how old are you...?"

You raise an eye ridge in contemplation.

"There was no unified measurement of time's passage when I was brought into this world. As a youngling I had no need to know how many cycles I had been alive for. Once I began cultivating the kobolds almost three-thousand years ago, however, it became important to note their generational progress so I had to create a way to mark the passage of time accurately."

"Wait!" She cried, interrupting your monologue. "So you're saying you also created the calendar...?"

"Of course." You reply matter of factly. "And given we are approaching the third melena, I would estimate my age to be somewhat near double that. No exact number but, yes, around six-thousand years old."

You aren't exactly sure what her response of just flying off without another remark represents but at least it gives you a quiet moment to meditate. Perhaps it was too much information? Wyvern's are not as long lived as dragons. Wyverns that make it to old age can still get to be around 300 but usually only when supported by others. You suspect she's not much more than a tenth of that, certainly old enough to brood but, without any other males on her little island, you can tell why she's so spritely.

Its difficult to slip into a synchronicity without knowing when or where she might return so you end up wasting the rest of the day just tinkering in your own thoughts at the cliff edge. Just when you are about to give up your guard and slip into something deeper, you catch the sound of her wingbeats. Late evening has fallen when she lands, the sun below the horizon with just the illuminated shrubbery and the kobold's campfires providing light.

"You were right." She begins, biting off the desire not to admit it. "She knew my hatching day."

The next few days are spent exchanging information. It's a barter system though one you don't think she realizes is happening. For every new tidbit of knowledge you impart on the young female, you gather a piece for yourself. You wouldn't go so far as to say she's warming up to you but at least you don't think she'll be trying to attack you again any time soon. Trust is not easily earned when your indoctrinated into believing dragons are the root of all evil from birth but you can confidently say you're getting somewhere with her.

When the wyverness isn't keeping you busy, your cabal is adding new details to your situation. While attempting to create a map, they find the measurements being taken are all very unusual. Up upon the ship, a rudimentary size of the island can be determined but when they are attempting to measure distances traveled based on visible landmarks the distance can be drastically different than the expected outcomes. You can only guess there is some sort of warping going on and find your inability to determine the cause mildly frustrating.

Food seems plentiful enough at least, rations remaining largely unused and, while Aether will hardly acknowledge your presence, she's quite content to teach you kin about dangers and delicacies of the island. Granted, it comes with the cost of her discretely attempting to convert your minni'sjalfur to her 'cause' but you don't feel the need to confront her over it.

By the third day you've grown fairly accustomed to Vaila'rahn's presence. She's still a gnat buzzing around the back of your mind, always keeping you from fully concentrating but at least you aren't anticipating her flying in suddenly to attack you or anything.

"Don't you ever eat?" She inquires, laying behind you on her belly.

"If I desire to, yes." You answer casually.

"So you don't need to or anything?" She adds, scrutinizing your flank for signs of starvation.

"With the warmth of the motherstar and conservation of energy meditation affords me, I am able to sustain myself solely with the energy of the focusing crystal."

"Oh..." Your answer seems to disappoint her.

"More rigorous activities generally require sustenance to balance the expenditure of energy. I considered eating after my engagement with you created a touch of peckishness-" Her tail flicks with a hit of remembered annoyance. "-but declined."

"Mmm..." She rumbled in thought. "So if you go flying or something, you would need to eat? We should go flying!" The violet maned female perked, shifting up onto her wings with a bit of excitement.

You remain silent.

Thankfully, the moment is broken by a small pack of kobolds heading in your direction. Both angular draconic heads turn in the direction of the approaching congregation. Ramah and two others of your cabal approach with a fourth bound, slung over the golden guard's shoulder.

"Aether!" Exclaims the blue-eyed wyverness, shifting into a ready position and almost immediately backs off as you move.

It's the first time she's seen you leave your perch and the sudden movement puts her on alert. But at least it affords you the space you want between her and your kin.

"Apologies betri'vera but I thought this would be worth coming to you for." Spoke the smaller male as he gripped the squirming body on his shoulder and plopped her on the ground. Secured around the ankles, wrists tied behind her back and a bandana tied securely around her mouth, she looked equal parts vehemently angry and undignified.

"We caught her attempting to sneak off into the forest. Admittedly Juuke was the one who managed to slow her down enough that we could catch her. As ordered, she's been returned unharmed though she did have this on her." The spear-wielding kobold retrieved a note from his satchel and observed it for the great beast before him.

Offering the tiny piece of parchment to one of your size would be hardly useful so Ramah just offered the information on the page to the best of his understanding.

"Aether..." The wyverness whined softly, tail flicking nervously.

"Cant be sure since its just some random words and numbers but I suspect its notes on the camp. Maybe some supplies we have or head count."

Emotions are not the easiest thing to read on a dragon but, considering the reactions of those around you, the disappointment you are exuding must be rather clear.

Your patience is running rather thin as it stands. You're growing toward a week that the 'trade' of your navigator for the wild kobold occurred and her presence has been hardly worth the headache. You still need her to trade for Zula's safe return so you aren't going to kill her or anything ghastly but perhaps it's time to be more proactive in this negotiation. If you aren't going to obtain any additional attunement here, perhaps it's time to move further into the island and meet these wild kobolds personally.

A group of your best warriors will stand the greatest chance of fending off any of the unknowns but a group of your best trackers are more likely to be able to find your target quickly. A couple of each will give you a good balance but lack a particular focus. Then again, with skull-wearing yellow kobold's rather discourteous behavior, you aren't above forcing her to show you were they've taken your navigator so you can get answers directly.

(#25) [Vote ends: 3/6 @ 6pm PT or 75% votecount] The pieces are beginning to fall apart. Now seems an appropriate time for action.

Put together a contingent of combat/guard kobolds to search for the village.

Put together a contingent of your best trackers/hunters to search for the village.

Put together a contingent of mixed skill kobolds to search for the village.

Have Aether lead you and a small band of kobolds to her village.

---

You're still contemplating your options and what to do about this whole situation when Vaila'rahn whines and pipes up.

"Ohh, let her go!" She speaks like an anxious puppy but your mood is already sour and her outburst only irritates you further.

"You overestimate my hospitality little wyvern." You snarl, moving toward her with such speed that she suddenly shrinks away, falling into a defensive crouch, half ready to leap into the air. Her tail swings over to her flank but you don't fear it any longer. "I have shown the inhabitance of this island patience and respect and have had nothing in return but threats and dishonesty."

By the way she reacts, you get the feeling she realizes her actions have made things worse. Not by much but you're fine with putting the whelpling in her place. You just hover above her like an imposing shadow. One that breaths fire so its little wonder she scoots a step back and remains silent. Only once your convinced she's fully withdrawn from the conversation, do you turn your attention back to the matter at hand.

The stare of those massive slitted crimson eyes would be enough to crush a kobold by itself. You would have expected something from them by now and this deception is unacceptable. You doubt it was planned in advance, at least not between Aether and the other wild kobolds. More likely she found an opportunity and took advantage of it. Your eyes shift slightly before wordlessly reaching out and picking up a small stone from the ground beside her.

Manipulating such a small object is no simple feat but it doesn't really matter. Your claws can still scratch something close to a rune into its surface. Once your satisfied, you speak with command.

"Unbind her." The two guards keep close should she attempt anything unwise while Ramah removes the knotted rope and cloth. The moment her muzzle is free, she opens her mouth to defend herself.

"I-"

"Speak again and I will burn the words from your throat." You growl, punctuating the last word quite sharply. There is a mixture of fear and resentment in her face but she remains silent.

Satisfied, you lift the tiny rock before your snout and speak the old tongue. Just a few words, finalizing it with a short belt of flame to singe the stone, heating it noticeably but not painfully. You inspect it one last time before extending your arm, holding it in the tips of your claws to her.

"Swallow it." Your tone dares her to refuse. Cradling the small object in her paws, she looks up at you with uncertainty. "Now." You growl in warning.

Your intent is to make her believe her options are swallow the stone you carved or be the next thing you roast. It works as, despite her hesitation, she presses the little object to the back of her throat and swallows as ordered. You wait to make sure she has taken it completely, feeling the hot pebble into her belly.

"Good. You are now bound to the ship. Should you travel any further from my vessel then the distance you are now, the stone will burst with the power of the dragonflame it was infused with." The information is passed to the little kobold without a hint of remorse, her wide-eyed shock not unwarranted. "Until released from the binding, you are to remain near the camp, am I understood?"

You aren't sure if she wants to punch you or flee from you but, thankfully, has the sense of self-preservation to do neither.

"Yes." The one-word response is flat and filled with barely contained emotion but it is all you require.

"Then I suggest you retire from my sight before I reconsider your punishment." There is not malice in your words but a hefty dose of catch my drift wafting through them.

At least she doses so, turning on her heels and stomping away with a huff. Your angular snout turns toward the cowed wyverness. Her body quivers with tense energy, not sure what to do now.

"As for you; you've taken up enough of my time. Leave me in peace before I find a stone for you too." You huff, sending a waft of smoke from your nostrils in her direction.

You both know forcing her to eat a stone would be terribly difficult but, young as she is, the little wyvern is at least not so naive as to misunderstand your meaning. With her hackles still on edge, she slinks to the side a few steps, mostly facing you and, when there's enough distance between you, she bounds off to catch up with the unfortunate 'victim' of your magics.

You watch them go for some time before waving off the two guards who where with your commander. It isn't until the two of you are fully alone that he pipes up.

"I thought you said you couldn't use your magic here?" You are silent for a moment longer, eyes still watching the two wildlings.

"I can't." You answer candidly. "But they don't need to know that."

His eye ridge raises curiously, calculating the implications and then nods, apparently impressed. His approval of your actions is of little consideration but it does cool your mood somewhat. During the whole ordeal, you did manage to decide what you were going to do next at least.

"Put together a group of six minni'sjalfur, whichever you think would be best for a long journey into a hostile unknown." The golden scaled male perks up, paying close attention to your words. "At least a few who can defend against whatever you encounter out there and a few who are good a tracking and navigating. Find this _frjals'fraendi_village. Once you do, return here and we will see about getting Zula back."

His affirmative nod is a welcome change of attitude. Satisfied you dismiss him leaving you alone on your perch once more.

The rest of the day and night leave you with little more progress. The land is restless in a way you've not felt since the mountain of Emershire erupted some four-thousand years ago. For a brief time, you cant help but wonder if the same might happen here with the colossal mountain spire at the island's center. But you can mostly dismiss the premonition, the sensations are similar but distinctly different.

By sunrise, the small band your golden guard put together has already departed, the camp quieter with Amos gone. You're not quite angry to find the wyverness back in her perching spot as well, her vigil to keep an eye on you unwavering. Her aura is much diminished though. You suspect being confronted with the true reality of her situation did not bolster her confidence. And, while it is good she understand her place in this, shall we say, conflict, it was not the intended way you had desired to teach her that.

But all younglings need to be taught that there is always a bigger fish- or in this case, dragon.

"So what do you prefer to eat?" You speak over your shoulder, facing out toward the rising sun. The smaller female lifts her head, tiling her head slightly in confusion but otherwise remains silent. "Come now, I answered your question when you asked. It is only proper for you to answer mine." It took her a long moment to process what he was saying.

"But... you..."

"Charmed your kobold and threatened you with the same?" You finish her thought for her.

"Ah! Yeah!" She puffs, bristling a little at how lightly you broach the subject.

"All actions have consequences my dear. Aether made a bargain of her own free will to trade her herself for my navigator. I treated her with respect and gave her freedom so long as she abided by her word. But she broke a promise bound to a dragon and the consequence was the removal of the freedom I granted her. If she breaks her word again... well... for her sake, let us hope she thinks better of doing so."

The air falls silent. You've no need to press her, letting the wyverness absorb what you've told her.

"And me...?" Her words are small but strong. Curious but almost afraid to know. You ponder what to say for a moment.

"I will be honest, Vaila'rahn, your presence here has been taxing. I am immeasurable but I am not infallible. After so many set backs and delays, my patience was quite thin. An evening of solitude has restored my good graces however." You pause to fan your wings out, flaring them to their fullest.

The massive kites of red and black stretch out far enough to create a looming shadow over a vast swath of the forestry behind you including the wyverness who looks at the sun-drenched silhouette with a mix of awe and fear. The motion also reveals the faded turquoise that has crept up around the joints and near your wing thumbs.

"So... why are you here...?" She ask tentatively as you bask in the early morning warmth.

You consider for a moment the half-truths or ways to redirect the question but, in the end, decide against them.

"I am here for the celestial alignment. Though to be frankly honest, I did not know 'here' existed until we came across this unexpected bastion of floating land. If not for exceedingly dire circumstances and... valiant sacrifices, we likely would have sailed right under your home without ever knowing it existed."

"Oh? So you're here for that thing where all the skyrocks line up?" She speaks in a manner too candid for you to ignore. Wings, folding, you turn with a raised eye ridge. Your motion catches her attention but she's not yet at alerted.

"How do you know about the celestial alignment?" Your inquiry is dubious but she's far too young to have done any research into the subject herself.

"Grandpaw talks about it all the time." She responded matter-of-factly, her tail swishing slightly.

"Grandpaw?" You question, wiggling further down the rabbit hole.

"Yeah, my father used to talk about it a lot too back before he died. When Grandpaw became the new Seer, he picked up right where pawpaw left off." She smiled wistfully, blue eyes look down in remembrance.

"I thought you said you were the only wyvern on the island?" You quire, trying to sort out some details.

"Oh, yes, pawpaw and grandpaw aren't wyverns, they're kobolds!" She beamed quite proudly. "Pawpaw found me and raised me when I was a little wyv. Used to put a cork on my tail so I didn't sting anyone by accident." She chortled for a moment before stiffening slightly in realization. "I guess, kinda like what you did..."

Quite interesting indeed. Certainly the best lead you've had so far. You aren't quite sure how a kobold astrologer would be of any significant use in your current plight but its unlikely to be a coincidence that there happens to be a creature on this very island also personally involved with the alignment. Part of you wishes you had gone with the advance group but the idea is quickly dismissed, knowing your bulk would have slowed their exploration down significantly.

"You're not as bad as I thought you'd be." She continues, catching your attention. "Pawpaw and Grandpaw always hated dragons so much that I thought they were all evil. But you don't really seem to be evil. Not yet anyway." She added as if to remove the idea that she fully trusts you. "You know a lot too, maybe even as much as Grandpaw."

You resist the urge to snort at being compared to a kobold.

"Graaaaah! What am I even doing talking to you?! Grandpaw would be furious!" She huffs, the violet maned wyvern's mood taking an unexpected turn.

You consider letting the change of temperament play out on its own but an opportunity has arisen that may be worth taking advantage of. Perhaps if you encourage her to try meditating with you, you can find some level of serenity that will allow you to resume your attunement. Failing that you could, instead, see if she'll come out of the underbrush and join you in the motherstar's warmth. And, of course, you've been having notable success with your conversation so simply continuing that could result in significant fruits of its own.

This vote introduces a chance element. Votes with percentage after them indicate you are engaging in an act that may or may not succeed based on your current relationship with the character and will change based on choices made previously. Choices that 'succeed' will happen, choices that 'fail' will still happen but to varying degrees of success (up to and including complete failure). Choices that do not have a percentage listed are considered 100% success rate.

(#26) [Vote ends: 3/13 @ 6pm PT or 50% votecount] Vaila'rahn is at a turning point. You decide to follow the path of-

-meditation. Show the rambunctious youngster a world she's never experienced before; if you can convince her to sit still long enough. (75%)

-embrace. A physical touch without claw and fang this time; assuming she trusts you enough at least. (50%)

-conversation. Of pleasant company at a distance you know she'll be comfortable with.

---

Its been some time since you've had to deal with a youngling like this, but perhaps she's not so young as to be impossible to teach. With your mind made up, you catch her attention by shifting from your perching spot off to the side.

"Come. Sit here." Your voice is commanding but not demanding, more offering the opportunity than requiring it.

"What?" She responds while scooting up on her four limbs. You snort, very aware of her hesitation.

"If I wanted to harm you, I would have done so by now."

"You burnt my tail!" She barked back, puffing up slightly and lifting it over her shoulder in display.

"I could have bitten it off." You respond flatly causing her to shrink away a little. "It was a temporary solution to a problem you created. I had not intended a violent path but you did not give me much opportunity. The plug was a temporary solution to give us time while it dissolves."

"Dissolves...?" She perked.

"Yes. The acid of your venom will dissolve the plug in a week or two. By then I expect you'll either behave or a less... gentle resolution may be required." Her tail flicked in a mix of emotion. "Now come, sit on the perch." When she still hesitates, you continue with a last attempt; "You asked me why I spend all my time here, come sit and I will show you."

You can feel her indecision in each motion but, despite being wary of you, it seems her curiosity wins out. Your angular draconic head follows her as she makes her approach, scenting the area lightly before eventually coming to settle at the spot you had been moments earlier.

"Alright, now what?" She inquires hastily.

Such impatience. And she's too wound up for this to work. First thing you'll need is to get her to relax and calm.

"Close your eyes." You instruct. Her long neck curves back giving you a skeptical look.

"Really?" You exhale in slight exasperation.

"You must eliminate the distractions of the world around you if you wish to understand." Perhaps it would have just been easier to eat her...

"Alright..." She wiggles a little to get comfortable in an attempt to relax some. "I'll try."

Finally...

Turning back toward the rising sun, she inhaled a breath and closed her eyes. At least it was a step in the right direction. It gives you an opportunity to observe her in the light. She has a lovely frame. It's not something you would have expected a lone wyvern with no competition on an island like this to retain. She's either very active or has an unexpected amount of restraint.

"Now what...?" She inquires. At least it had been a full minute since the last time she asked.

"Relax your mind." You respond casually.

"Yes." The young wyverness replies candidly. "And how do I do that?" An exhale leaves your maw. How does one explain the process to one who has never attempted attunement?

"Imagine a color, something simple, not beautiful, not brilliant but comfortable, neutral, relaxing. Imagine it as a sheet that envelops you in all directions like a bubble. Beyond it there should be nothing else. No sky, no clouds, no wind, no earth, just the infinite expanse of color. Now relax until your mind floats like a breath."

You explain the process slowly, each step giving her time to adjust, helping the youngling reach a calm and meditative state. Unfortunately, when you think there might be some progress, she reaches with a wing claw and scratches the side of her neck idly. You furrow your eye ridge a little. You aren't sure if she is just being a stubborn student or if your lack of ever having attempted to teach this technique to someone is making it difficult. Perhaps a different approach is in order.

You shift a dragonlength toward her and come to sit behind her tail. Gathering yourself, you lift your wings up wide. Your action and the sound catches her attention, the little wyvern poking her eyes open just in time to see your wings sweep down, causing her to duck and squeeze her eyes closed reflexively as those great draconic limbs swing down and cocoon her in their embrace.

She isn't hit. In fact, she doesn't feel the gust of wind that should accompany the motion so it comes as some surprise when she peeks her eyes open again to find her world blanketed in darkness. It's a lightless black shrouded in a of calmly rustling mist.

"What...??" Words don't come from her mouth but seem to resonate from her in all directions.

"Be still young one, I have you here by only a thread and, if you struggle, you will fall back to your body." Your voice comes from the mist. Not even a voice so much as communication.

You can feel her uncertainty rising. You'll need to be swift to keep her from disrupting the tentative connection you've formed. Perhaps something more familiar will help.

It's a trivial matter, focusing your essence into the shape you were born with and, after but a brief moment, a limb steps from the deepest fog followed shortly by a second and an angular snout along with it while the rest of you follows suit. It gives her something to focus on and you've made your size less imposing, keeping it at her height for now.

"What... where is this...?" She's adopted a somewhat defensive posture by instinct. Unfamiliar and confused as she is, you can't really fault her for falling back on what she knows. You ponder the question briefly.

"I've never had a need to define this state of limbo before. In essence, I have brought you to a mental staging ground. Normally it is a place of contemplative serenity where I can go to think through problems and prepare to go deeper into the arcanum. "

Her ghostly eyes look around but there is nothing but you and her.

"I don't understand. Normally? You mean its not that way now? And what's an arcanum_?_" Her confusion is understandable but you have her curious now which is better than just cautious.

"You can think of this spirit sanctuary as a world of the mind. It is a pace I have built over the melena and exposing you to its entirety all at once would be... unpleasant to say the least. So I have sealed away most of what I have built and brought you here instead. "

"I don't like it... its so... empty. " She speaks, feeling a bit cornered despite the endless expanse around you.

It takes only a moment to paint a more relatable picture of the realm. A sweep of your wings causes the darkness to brighten, melting into a softer sky blue. The mists coalesce into fluffy clouds all about and beneath you an infinite expanse of perfectly reflective water awash underfoot. Startled, her ethereal form stands and shuffles back a step before curiously leaning down to sniff at the not-water.

"Wow... how did you do that?!" Her amazement is almost amusing. Changing the scenery equates to little more than a parlor trick for you.

"In this place, I am everything with the one exception of you. When you learn how, you can control the spirit sanctuary like a dream and put everything you know together in whatever way suits your needs." You turn your head as the edge of the water around surges up causing the little wyvern to skitter toward you with concern.

You lift a wing and let her rest against your flank, her earlier discontent with your presence all but forgotten as the mercury-like reflection creates a full bubble around the two inside. Its engulfing surface surrounds the draconic beasts, shifting with false ripples. It takes a moment for the wyverness to come to terms that it isn't about to drown her and her curiosity peeks once more, stepping forward and bringing her nose within an inch of its surface to sniff once more.

When the water reaches out and touches her snout, she jerks back slightly in surprise. It becomes an even greater surprise as the poking-bit continues to emerge in the familiar shape of the dragon behind her. With a quick check, she finds the mysterious ghost gone, scooting back far enough to give the great drake room to emerge from the water, perfectly shaped other than appearing made of liquid silver. You drain the rest of the sphere away through your tail, returning the two of you to the dark void from whence you started. Unused to the whole ordeal, she watches you absorb the silvery shell into your ghostly core until it shrinks away into nothing leaving only your ethereal form behind.

"Rrrrll... I don't like this. " She growled. "I want to go home. " Her voice low with warning.

"You haven't moved from where you were sitting." To prove your point, you shift your real wings, sliding them across her flanks slightly. You can see her confusion as she shifts, circling about a little, trying to figure out what's touching her. "I brought you here to show you why I spend so much time in this place. And it is not all tricks and dreams."

Your wing shifts again, leaning forward to poke the 'ground' between the two of you with a claw tip. Like dipping soap into oily water, the tiny rift soon expands outward in all directions beneath the two feral forms. The change happens too fast for her to aptly react, the little wyvern just hopping up onto her hinds in surprise, readying herself to take off. But no gravity pulls her down to take flight. Instead a miraculous swirling vortex of colors grows outward like twisted opalescent threads.

It is absolutely beautiful to her eyes. Breath, such as it is in this place, catches in her throat. What was once a stance of fear and uncertainty becomes one of wonder and awe as she watches the pulses of energy dart around in streaks of rainbow luminance. You had nearly forgotten what that childlike amazement was like.

To you it is a chaotic mess like a bundle of yarn tied in knots, haphazardly tossed into other collections of unrelated, disjointed piles of mess. Unique in its disarray but utterly useless to you in its current form; you could weave a tapestry of the world if only you could make sense of its structure.

"What... ...?" Its hard for her to even finish a thought, so quickly distracted by what she's experiencing.

"This is the first layer of the arcanum. What you are seeing is the living essence of your island. There is more power in this tiny floating mountain than in the convergence of the mainland's three primary ley lines." You speak, reaching out a wing claw and cradling a nearby thread of energy.

You hold it delicately, its twisting, ever changing structure offered to the wyvern who scoots forward like a hatchling and reaches out both wing paws to grasp it. The sensation could best be described as warmth that permeates her essence like the pleasant afterglow of a post-mating. Her untrained paws can't hold it long though, the thread wrapping around her like a tendril before escaping into the chaos leaving only a trembling shiver behind on her essence.

"This is the world you don't see. The world I need to make sense of before the celestial alignment." You rumble, watching the little wyvern float there for a moment.

That relaxation surrounds her like a heavy blanket, eventually the world of color fading, your perching form just watching her sink beneath the 'surface' and, like sand slipping through your talons, you let her go.

The comforting darkness is rather abruptly interrupted as the little wyverness jerks away from the harsh light piercing her eyes, even behind her eyelids. A wing raises to protect her dilated irides as she blinks into the morning sun. This time the motherstar is real- though it will take her a few moments to distinguish the real from the dream.

"Oooh... what... what was that...?" She inquires between rubbing her throat with a wing paw, investigating the sensation of having words come from her mouth once more.

"It is what you make of it my dear. You now know more about the world than most creatures will ever suspect. Take from it what you will." Your notably larger bulk sitting directly behind the young female seems to have gone unnoticed for some time but, eventually she realizes your closeness and shifts to put a little distance between you.

You allow it.

She's still trying to make heads or tails of what you just showed her when a rather abrupt flash of blue lightening streaks horizontally across the sky, catching both your attention. A large mass of ominous looking blue-grey clouds have begun gathering and swirling around the tip of the central mountain. A crack of thunder follows, announcing the storm's presence.

"Ah... how long were we in the... ah... dream thing?" Your snout shifts from the storm's direction to hers, to the motherstar, making a calculation while watching new clouds drift toward the spire as if attracted by a gravity well.

"Time is irrelevant within a dreamscape. Normally I can keep a fairly regular tick of it myself but keeping a tether with you made it difficult. It is approaching mid-day." You conclude.

"I guess that's why we didn't notice the storm..." She huffs. Another crack of lightning flashes across the sky with its accompanying boom shortly after. "C'mon, we need to find some shelter. And don't fly."

She needn't worry about that.

You watch the young wyverness shift down onto her four limbs and head toward the forest. Further beyond her is your camp of kobolds. A mana bolt is attracted to magical sources like normal lightening is to metal so the little creatures on the ground are unlikely to be in much harm. If anything the ship is the most amorous target but its such a large vessel with no concentrated aura, you suspect the trees are more likely to be struck. And, there isn't much you could do to protect the ship in your current state anyway...

(#27) [Vote ends: 3/25 @ 6pm PT or 60% votecount] The storm is coming.

Take shelter with Vaila'rahn; she's obviously done this before.

The wyverness will be fine; return to the minni'sjalfur camp.

---

There is certainly some small part of you warns not to follow a wyvern into the woods as your view shifts back from the camp in the distance back to the purple striped haunches. Her angular snout and blue eyes curve back to see if you're coming, your large paws taking a step in her direction. Odds are your best chance at avoiding an overcharge are to follow her and see where things lead from there. The camp should be fine, if anything you're most worried about the scouting party you sent out having to find shelter.

None of these worries distract your companion though, her violet mane billowing about as the wind picks up. You aren't sure where she's leading you, the path not an easy one to traverse with your large bulk and the forestry. Paths she's able to slip through you must find a way around but she's patient. Or at least as patient as one trying to find shelter from an impending storm can be.

"Do these storms happen often?" You inquire, carefully working your wing through awkwardly angled branches.

"No. Well... yah, more often now." She speaks over her shoulder, lean against a tree and dragging her wing claws along it. Seemingly unsatisfied, her attention turns to another not far in the distance and makes her way over to check that one as well. "They used to happen only a few times a season but, now that we're skybound, they've been happening more often."

Her claws dig small gouges in the bark once more, disappointed with the results again, though brightening up a little as she works her way toward another, larger tree. You, of course, have to push your way through the uncomfortably tight underbrush but at least she seems satisfied, mounted against the larger tree's trunk with her claw scratches confirming... whatever it is she's looking for. Circling around, she settles in on the ground at its base.

Your eye ridge raises, looking up at the wafting feathery leaves and upturned blossoms that glow faintly in the dimming stormlight.

"This is it, the 'shelter' you were looking for?" You inquire dubiously. You had expected a cave or at least some covering to stay out of the rain under.

"Yep!" She nods, suddenly enthusiastic that there's something she knows that you don't. You should know better than to expect her to be forthcoming with the information so, at length, you look down with the same skeptical look on your snout, finally asking the question she's smugly waiting for you to ask.

"And why here exactly?" With childish jubilance, she slips right into the explanation.

"You see that silvery goo the tree bleeds with?" She pointed with her snout at the scratch marks, catching your attention. "Grandpaw said the trees with quicksilver in their veins are pylons of the island." You step closer, examining the fluid, scooping a small portion of the stuff onto your claw. "If the blue lightening strokes, the tree will absorb it and send it into the ground."

The look you give must have caught her attention because she quickly continues.

"Oh don't worry, its harmless once its in the ground. Though you don't want it to get into the ground through you. Poor Uro was trying to get back to the village when he got struck by a bolt, didn't leave anything of him behind, just a crater in the ground." She shivered.

"Well it makes sense. Mana bolts are attracted to sources of ethereal energy and this tree's sap is infused with spellstone." You speak almost idly to yourself, the lounging wyvern's head tilting to the side, curiously lost. Your eyes shift down to your claw, rubbing the sticky stuff between your claws experimentally. "Spellstone is an extremely rare material comprised of highly concentrated magical energy." You continue.

"Left of its own devices, most spellstone will eventually... erupt, obliterating itself and everything around it. But, if you're lucky enough to catch and refine it during the rare opportunity that it is stable, you can crate a densely porous magical lockbox that can store energy to be released as necessary to preform amazing magical feats that could otherwise kill you to attempt." You turn, raising a claw to indicate the small opalescent gemstone dangling between your horns.

"Soooo... you're wear an explosive rock then?" She seemed dubious but her casual outburst made you chortle rather heartily.

"No." You exhale the answer at last, stepping over to take shelter beside the wyverness who scoots just a little further away when you do. "This stone is quite stable; I have worn it for many millennia. You are much more likely to die being struck by the storm than destroyed by the my spellstone."

You're not quite sure if the look she wears is one of disappointment or relief. You decided not to press and shift subjects.

"That doesn't explain the tree though. And there are more?" You inquire, getting her head nod of affirmation. "This entire island confounds me..." Your gloom is accentuated by a crack of thunder that catches her attention, the smaller female's snout uplifting to check the sky- what little of it can be seen through the canopy.

Her snout jerks back slightly as if hit, going cross eyed for a moment as she checks the end of her nose. Then you feel a dab hit your flank. A quick glance back shows nothing out of the ordinary. Another and another soon follow, but nothing appears. It feels wet but you can see no sign of rain.

"Ugh, I hate this part." The young wyvern huffs, flexing a wing and ducking her head under it.

Puzzlingly, you can see the effects of water as the leaves are impacted, even hear the sound of it, feel it matting the fur of your mane but... no rain falls from the sky. The flowers all about the forest sparkle, their glow momentarily brightened with each invisible raindrop that hits them.

Curious...

You extend a wing over Vaila'rahn's tightly coiled body, sheltering her from the ethereal rain. She perks, pulling her head out from under her wing to figure out what's going on, only to find the tent of your appendage shielding her. From her place, only some of her body is covered so, not one to look a gift-wing in the mouth, she scoots over toward you. It isn't until you feel her making herself comfortable against your flank that you look down to see her new posture.

Able to relax your wing and create a kite above her, she's almost completely sheltered from the downpour. If one could call it that. Well, you are soaked already so, yes, that seems appropriate.

"Its very pretty at least." She speaks at length. You glance down at her to see what she's looking at, then follow her line of sight, then nod.

"It is agreeable." You confirm. She huffs, laying her head down on a soggy tree root.

"Don't you find anything just nice?" The young wyverness broods.

Your long neck watches her there, just relaxed beneath your wing, breathing. Your view drifts back up, taking a new look at the wafting branches, swaying with dancing cups of twinkling light.

"It is unlike most storms I have encounter; they were rage filled torrents of untethered power lashing out in anger. In the other places of the world where storms like this occur, there is no serene rain or calm trees to rest beneath. They are barren lands where life is ripped apart. That which survives survives only by being vicious enough to overcome the immense hardships."

Her gaze watches you as you stare out at the windswept underbrush, recalling memories perhaps best left untouched. A crack of blue lightening catches both your attention as, for a brief moment, the entire land fills with streaks of glow. Drops of phosphorescent cerulean liquid cling to every leaf and branch, thin streams of illumination trickle down the cracks of bark, even your hide glows where the mysterious rain has washed your scales.

As quickly as the magical radiance came, it went, the aura surrounding the land fading with it. Seems there is rain after all...

"And to answer your question-" You respond, turning your snout back to face her. "-I have found your company to be quite... 'nice'."

Your broad black snout leans in to bump her cheek while she recovers from the vastly unexpected compliment. It's quite clear she's rather conflicted about how to take a statement like that from a creature that, until a few days ago, she'd have gladly ripped the throat out of without a second thought. Turning back to watch the world as a distant rumble of thunder rolls across the woods, you consider your next move.

This attraction is being biologically encouraged of course; what with the fact that she came into heat a few days ago. It explains her mood swings and the reason she's been willing to get closer to you. She's never been with a male before and, while you may not be a wyvern, you're likely the closest thing she's ever seen. You glance up, closing your second semi-transparent eye lids to feel the rain. To be fair, she's also the closest thing to a dragoness you've had against your side in some two-thousand years.

You can also thank Ember for the erection you're currently laying on too. Blasted kobold had perfected a perfume that emulated the scent of a dragoness in heat and enjoyed wearing it when she engaged you.

Not that you didn't enjoy it too of course. Digging that scent out from between her legs with your tongue created many fond memories, but it did make it harder to control yourself when you encountered it. You could lay here and just let the rain wash away the urge but you could also try and engage the wyverness in something more... intimate. Before you met Ember, your only interest would have been to mount her, but the venereal shaman has given you a wider understanding of physical pleasures. Being that this would be her very first sexual experience, perhaps you would be more successful in engaging her in something simpler but no less pleasant.

(#28) [Vote ends: 4/10 @ 6pm PT or 75% votecount] The wyverness is enticing...

Focus on other things, it will pass.

Offer to relieve her tension. (83%)

Let her explore you. (55%)

Offer to mate her. (33%)

Move to mate her. (71%)

---

The soft rumble of electrically charged thunder overhead gives the little wyvern a pleasing glow, whether she wants it or not as you stare at her. It takes her a minute to realize your lingering gaze is affixed upon her and, when she does, she puffs up a little.

"What?" She huffs defensively, conflicted between her dislike of the invisible rain and 'owing' a dragon for sheltering her. Your crimson orbs linger on her visage for a moment longer before casually shifting up to look up toward the rain clouds.

"I was admiring you; you are an attractive being as it stands." Again, you can tell your bluntness has put her on the spot.

Her inability to retort speaks volumes. Instead she just jerks her head away and lashes her tail with small arcs behind her in a frustrated denial of appreciation. Your vision shifts to give her a sidelong glance, considering your options. She is beautiful, even damp with her mane matted with invisible moisture. Or semi-invisible as it radiates with an attractive glow whenever the lightening strikes overhead.

You lean in and rub the broad of your snout against the flank of her neck. The young wyvern shifts away slightly at the unexpected touch but you persist, rumbling softly, letting her experience the attraction of a male for the first time- albeit with a bit of confused conflict. Still, the fact that she lets you pursue is a positive reaction, your wet snout gliding across her slick scales adding alight friction to the forward attention. The young wyverness is tense, certainly, but receptive to your advances, even pressing back into them some by the end.

She might have reservations about you but they are not shared as you move forward, shifting in a half stand as you advance on her. Vaila'rahn, caught somewhere between logic and instinct, requires some convincing to roll over but your motions are dominant, not aggressive. She yields in a way that leaves her underside exposed but only minorly so as you move atop her, pinning the little wyvern with lascivious grooming tongue strokes and heated, arousing nibbling bites all along her hide.

Her confusion at the sensations coursing through her body is almost palpable. Her wingclaws try to hold you at bay while simultaneously arching her snout to give you access to those softer parts of her underside. You could likely move to take her with this unspoken consent and, certainly, there are parts of you that desire that outcome more than anything. But it would be a half truth to take advantage of her instincts in such a way. You are a dragon, you don't need consent to take what you desire but you've gone through this much trouble to earn her trust; perhaps it is time to test how far you've gotten with her.

"You're in heat Vaila'rahn." You speak softly, scenting up her neck as she stiffens at the warning. "I can smell your season even through the rain." She huffs, her wingclaws tightening on your flanks some.

"I... I can't mate with a dragon... grandpaw would never forgive me." She speaks meekly.

"You don't need the permission of a kobold to mate with whoever you please my dear." Your words come without malice but it would be a lie to say you weren't a little disappointed with her decision. But that was the risk you took by giving her the option. "However, perhaps there is something else I can do to help you."

"Ah...?" She perks bright blue eyes watching you lift and back up some before coming to rest near her tailbase.

"It's something Ember taught me. Not something I would have expected to learn from a kobold." You chortle, placing a paw on her inner thigh.

The posture you have her in, sprawled on her back, isn't typical wyvern stance and, with your belly right next to her tail stinger, she could stick you pretty easily if she wanted. But, if she's going to trust you around her delicate regions, you suppose you'll just have to trust her around yours as well. It also exposes her to more rain but you hope what you're about to show her will make up for any discomfort that might otherwise ensue. Her other hind limb reflexively reaches out and grips your shoulder but its what is between them you're looking for anyway.

Your venereal shaman is smaller than the feral female but, you suspect that will just make the proceedings that much easier. A light tug with your thumbclaw more vividly exposes the little wyvern's gender. The dim light and luminescent glow making her pink inner flesh quite an inviting sight. And scent as well, a flare of your nostrils catches the nibbling bite of her pheromones and draws it into your body without restraint. Even muted by the mystical rain as it is, it's still an alluring smell.

When your snout drops in to begin, her wingclaws instinctually snap down to try and defend herself but its already too late. The pressure remains even as the curl of your tongue presses between her folds and penetrates her untouched nether regions. There's a radical wave of confused emotion that rolls through the unprepared wyverness that you don't need dragonsight to see. She's stiff and tense but you continued unabated as that probing organ samples her inner flesh in a way only a select few have ever experienced.

She hasn't let go either; not from a desire to stop you but from a lack of cognizant recognition that she's still holding on. You nose in a little further between her hinds, letting that generously thick object worm its way further in. Your time with Ember allowed you to experiment ways to excite a female with naught but your tongue and, while she never led your sessions, it gave you many nights to find out what made her squirm and moan. With the right motions, you could even bring her to orgasm.

Granted, with your frisky little shaman, even left a slippery trembling mess was only the beginning. You can think of a single encounter where she left your chamber without a belly full of your seed given at one end or the other. That might not be the case with Vaila'rahn but it didn't mean that squirming, active tendril between her legs could drag its tines across her soft virgins walls in a way that would leave her a slippery, trembling mess too.

A crack of thunder caused her to tense but you just push back, dragging your thickened black tongue up and out of her passage. With the rain being invisible, its quite clear to her starring eyes what all that glossy moisture is from as she stares at him, slupring his tongue back up into that angular muzzle.

"Rrrrlf..." She exhales, finally given a moment to collect her thoughts with her elevated heartbeat thrumming in her ears. You rub the heated fluid across the roof of your maw, enjoying her in whatever meager way you can.

"Shall I continue?" You thrum deeply, nudging her still-gripping wingclaws.

Seemingly embarrassed, she eases back releasing the black drake and drags her tail away from your flank, letting you relax from having had it poking against your side the whole time. With a nudging bump of your snout, she relinquishes her shoulder grip too, allowing your other paw into the space to fully spread her gender from both sides. It makes the next motion one that draws a hiss from her muzzle as well.

A U-bend of your tongue presses against her young gender and slips inside as you get back to work on her, filling her channel doubly so, only coming uncurled once you reach the end of your trek, licking at her deeper recesses and tonging around the soft core of the tense wyverness. Her squirming becomes more intense as you begin tongue fucking the smaller female, more rigorous motions drawing that delightful appendage back and forth across her passage bringing her to a fresh new precipice of lust. Your head tilts to one direction, then another, allowing you to access her body in different angles to vary the sensations thrust upon her.

There's even a reflexive jerk of her hips when your actions aren't quite enough to please her but a simple shift afterward has your grinding tongue melting her sensitive spots in a way that has her toes curling in lustful desire.

Had this been your first time, you surely would have missed the encroaching signs of her orgasm but you've done this enough times with Ember to know when a female is nearing her peak. It wouldn't take much to push her over, let her experience what you can do with tongue alone but, perhaps now that she's seen what you can do, she might be more receptive to the idea of lifting her tail for you. At least if she does, you'll be sheltering her from the rain again as well.

(#29) [Vote ends: 5/29 @ 6pm PT or 75% votecount] The rain isn't the only wetness now.

Finish with your tongue.

Offer to finish with a mating.

Ease her down without finishing.

Finish with a mating.