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Wyvern Story

2013 Gren Drake

The air was hot and humid and it hung heavily about. There were no clouds, though, much less rain. There was never rain in the Great Expanse, only undying humidity. The still air entirely failed to stir the leaves of the sparse trees or shift clothing that, despite its thinness, seemed to try and drag her to the ground and suffocate Alicia.

But none of that was what was making her uncomfortable, why she trembled in the thick arms of her would-be lover. He was quite muscular, his often displayed chest practically an anatomical study. More, he was both well connected and rich. There was every reason she should acquiesce to his lust; his favour could change her sagging fortunes dramatically.

There was, unfortunately, a problem, one she hadn't known when he'd approached her or when she'd agreed to a private engagement while the caravan was stopped at the watering hole. The problem was simple: his personality.

"Hey, girl," he said. "You know why I brought you here. You wanted it as much as I did back at the wagons. Why don't you hurry out of those rags so we can get on with it? You don't want me to lose interest do you?"

She shuddered, but still reached up to unclasp the delicate shirt that hid her breasts from plain view. Though she forced herself to keep her eyes open she wasn't seeing his face, twisted as it was with lust, but rather the favour she might gain through him.

"Now that's what I want to see," he said, grabbing her newly exposed breasts and giving them a rough squeeze. A wince escaped her control, but it also escaped his notice as he buried his face in her chest. Warm air blew over her skin, providing an unexpected, if minor, breeze.

Her hands were on the belt of her trousers--not the most womanly of clothing, but practical for one spending weeks or months at a time on the road--when she heard the screams. The noise shattered the peace and froze her in place.

"What?" Charles looked up from her and glanced back towards where the caravan was stopped and where the screams had come from. "Ah, it's probably just one of the animal handlers. Those oxen looked unruly to me."

"I'm sure it is," Alicia said, shivering as more screams rent the air, piercing her through. "I'm feeling faint; I need to lie down." And she at once put action to her words, not even stopping to refasten her shirt. Shouting had joined the screams now. Harsh, violent shouting.

"Women!" Charles said. "The least thing and you go faint on me. He leaned back against a tree, his eyes on her. For her part, she just laid there, shuddering. She had seen and narrowly avoided attacks by bandits before and had no intention of doing anything that would get them spotted. As much as Charles irritated her, bandits would be far worse. He didn't seem to realize what was happening, but also seemed content to simply glare at her, no doubt planning what lie he'd tell his friends when he returned.

It didn't take long for the screams to stop, but it was well over an hour before she was willing to return to where the caravan was. It would be best to give the bandits plenty of time to finish their work.

* * *

When they returned, the caravan was in shambles. The wagons hadn't been burned, but that was the best that could be said for them. What the bandits had left of their contents was heaped not far from where they had piled the dead. The wagons themselves looked as though the bandits had decided not to tear them apart only at the very last moment. The teams of animals that had been pulling them were absent, but unlike everything else, it was easy to see where they'd been taken; it was hard to move that many animals without leaving a trail.

"By the kings!" Charles stood for a moment at the edge of the camp, staring. Then he took off running towards the piled junk the bandits had not taken. "If only we had been here this might not have happened."

Alicia turned away from him with a shrug; even if he were as good with a sword as he claimed she doubted it would have made a difference. She was just happy to have been elsewhere; before one could get over a tragedy, one first had to survive.

"Aha!" Hearing Charles' voice, Alicia turned to see him holding up a bag. "I didn't think they'd have taken these." He reached inside and pulled out a thick glass vial filled with swirling green liquid. The movement of the liquid inside seemed unrelated to that of the vial. Alchemical potions, then. "I labelled them with my private code so no one else will know what they hold." He winked at her. "Trade secrets, you know. They're almost worthless if you don't know what they are."

"Ah." She gave him a rather absent-minded nod before turning her attention back to the dead. The only reason that she hadn't joined them was that she'd been elsewhere, but just because the bandits had left didn't mean there was no danger. Bandits had never been the biggest threat when crossing the Great Expanse, the home of the White King. Indeed, most bandits avoided the place; the dead couldn't spend loot.

The caravan had had another two weeks before it reached the valley leading away from the area. They'd be able to travel faster on foot, but they also lacked the guards that had protected the caravan. Well, that were supposed to have protected it. The White King's people could be anywhere; the barren land was no obstacle to them. And they would definitely be at the caravan site by morning; the death would attract them and their numbers would swell once more.

"Should we rest here for the night?" Charles said.

"NO!" Alicia tore her eyes from the bodies. "We must be away before dawn. We do not want to be caught by the White King. Next to him, the bandits would be merciful."

"Bah! How bad can one man be?"

"Man? The white king is no man, but a demonlord and ruler of the living dead."

Alicia couldn't help but be amused at the way Charles' eyes went wide and his skin pale; it was clear he had not known anything of the territory the caravan passed through. For a time he did nothing but stare at her. So boastful before, but he feared the White King's minions more than she who knew so much more of what there was to fear. But that didn't mean she didn't respect danger the White King's people represented.

Thus, before long, she prompted him to action. "If you're done staring, we really should be getting moving. Unless you want to be found, of course."

Charles started rummaging through the bag he'd recovered as he spoke. "It would be better if we had a wyvern. We could travel faster that way and get safe sooner."

A look around the shattered caravan camp showed she hadn't missed anything. There were no wyverns present, let alone tame ones. The two of them were the only living things present; even the scavengers hadn't arrived yet. It didn't pay for scavengers to be too quick in the White King's land.

"Perhaps, but I don't see one here. Unless you've one up your sleeve?" She started walking; no sense wasting time getting away.

Charles quickly caught up with her. He was holding a red vial.

"I have a potion here that could turn you into a wyvern. Temporarily of course," he added as she started to sputter, "This other one-" he held up a vial of green liquid- "is the antidote."

"Why me? Surely since it's your potion..."

"But I'm the one who can read the code on the vials to find the antidote; I would hardly be able to handle the vials as a wyvern." Her doubts must have been visible on her face as he continued. "Besides, while this isn't prime wyvern territory, it's not impossible we'll find one. Male wyverns can be quite territorial, but as a female they would just ignore you." He rocked the vial back and forth in his hand as he spoke.

"Well, I suppose you have a point." She kept her eyes on the vial. There was no doubt in her mind that the real reason he wanted her to take the potion was so he didn't have to, but his selfishness didn't make the reasons any less valid. "Give it here then; let's get this over with."

"Just remember to let me the talking if we should meet anyone."

Like she would have a choice.

She pulled the cork from the vial and downed its contents in a single swallow. She wondered how long it would take to take-

She gasped, falling to her knees as she clutched at her body, fingers pulling at her clothes, tearing them without her really noticing. Indescribable sensation flooded her body as though every nerve had come alive at once. It wasn't exactly painful per se, but left her caught between ecstasy and agony. The feel of bone and muscle moving beneath her skin was disquieting and she tightly closed her eyes as she tried to block out the kaleidoscope of colours that threatened to overwhelm her vision. If only she could do the same for her ears and nose. Oh, kings, her nose! Scents were battering at her brain like an army at the castle gates.

How long this lasted wasn't at all clear, but awareness of the world did return. It came stealthily, almost avoiding her notice. She tried to speak, but only odd barks came out. She could smell Charles easily, a strong masculine scent, and recognized it as him despite the massive changes in the odours she smelt. She stood, her body moving strangely, but it seemed to have an instinctive grasp of how to work.

Still, despite either of their efforts it was another hour before they managed to get away. As much as her body seemed to know what to do, her mind was still unsettled by it and tried to correct it, leaving her stumbling or collapsing to the ground. And she absolutely refused to try flying the first time in the growing dark.

* * *

They stopped at a cave for shelter well before midnight. They hadn't gotten as far from the devastated caravan as Alicia might have liked, but her inexperience at walking on all fours, her wings functioning surprisingly well as forelegs, had left her feeling unusually exhausted, despite the way the potion seemed to have given her command of her own body. And it had been quickly obvious that Charles' only experience with horseback riding, never mind wyvern riding, was from a carriage. And not as the driver, either.

Charles headed deeper into the cave, exhibiting an experience with the outdoors equal to his riding skill; never did he give any sign of considering that something else might already be living in the cave.

After a dozen feet or so the cave shrunk down to where Alicia couldn't practically fit; this is where Charles curled up, sleeping under the blanket he had used in place of a proper saddle and with his head on a pillow made of his folded jacket.

By dint of not fitting further in, Alicia found herself relegated to stretching out just a short distance inside the cave and functioning as a makeshift windbreak and screen between Charles and the outside world.

In truth she didn't mind much. As a wyvern she seemed to have a thick hide largely impervious to the night chill and wind. Not that she'd have admitted it to Charles, even if she had been able speak. The look on his face after she'd scowled at him for suggesting she actually sleep outside was a memory she would treasure, but it did nothing to engender goodwill between them. Despite what he seemed to believe, neither wealth nor connections excused poor behaviour.

Besides, she'd been noticing other changes in herself. She had felt dependant; she'd arranged their rendezvous to try and get his protection, but now she found she didn't care. If she hadn't wanted the antidote to the transformation potion she would have already abandoned him. Once and only once had he tried to threaten her since she'd changed. That was when she'd realized that just because she was shorter than him, she wasn't smaller. She was actually considerably more massive than he was and at that moment she had felt it. Her teeth and claws, temporary as they might be, were the equal of any sword.

A sound outside the cave pulled her from her thoughts and she lifted her head from where it rested on her wings. Was it Charles, trying to impose on her or control her somehow? She had more than once found herself fighting the urge to sink her teeth into him. It wasn't an appropriate response nor was it like her, but it was still something she found herself wanting to do increasingly often.

She turned her head and looked outside the cave. Though it was dark, she could see surprisingly well. Not well enough to fly and not nearly as well as she'd been able to see during the day, but despite it being the deep of the night, she could see well enough to see that there was another wyvern outside the cave. It was reared up on its hind legs with its wings spread, displaying their full and rather impressive span. Something stirred deep in Alicia at the sight, something she'd never felt before. It made her heart skip a beat. Fright, she told herself.

There was a bit of vivid red between its thighs and she gladly turned her attention to that rather than the awe-inspiring wing-spread. The display worried her with the way it made her heart race and the way she suspected she be staring even if it weren't so dark. When she realized just moments later what she'd moved her gaze to she uttered a short, high sound and looked away. That didn't stop her body, though. It seemed intent on responding and she could only shift awkwardly as it ignored her mental commands, a feeling of desire and moistness developing in her loins.

Looking away certainly didn't affect the memory of what she'd seen or discourage her subconscious from painting an image of those spread wings and the exposed tip of the wyvern's shaft. Why did a pair of spread wings seem so sensual, anyway?

She heard the crunch of feet on the rocky ground cover. She glanced back to see the wyvern approaching now all on fours, neither of his "assets" on display anymore. She was deeply relieved even as part of her felt disappointed.

Of course, the decidedly male wyvern hadn't left yet, either. He stretched his head out, gently and briefly rubbing his snout against her neck, though his eyes hardly left hers for more than a moment. She felt herself stiffen and pulled in on herself.

The wyvern whined, taking a few steps back. She mewed in reply, though even she was unsure what she meant by it; was she more disturbed by his interest or disappointed by the backpedalling of such an impressive male? And he was impressive, her entire self agreed about that. But whether desirable-impressive or dangerous-impressive she wasn't sure.

"What's the noise about?" Charles called. "Some of us are trying to sleep." The moment, whatever kind of moment it was, was broken. The male hesitated and shuffled its wings even as it stood on them for a few moments, then turned and fled. She sighed as she and her body began to calm down from the encounter.

Clearly she couldn't trust herself. If Charles hadn't interrupted who knew how far things might have gone and with such an impressive specimen who could blame her?

No. Bad self. She needed to find a way to keep even the chance from coming up. Could she trust herself to say no? Though she had the feeling it would be accepted if she did, if reluctantly. She would think on that while they traveled.

In the meantime, she stretched back out and drifted into sleep. Once there, a particular large-winged wyvern featured prominently in her dreams.

* * *

Morning arrived with Charles rousing her from sleep, disturbing an overly vivid dream she hoped would fade from her mind quickly. Thankfully, her dreams usually did.

He had already gotten himself dressed and from a few crumbs clinging around his mouth and the small of old travel rations, it appeared he'd already eaten as well. The makeshift saddle-blanket was folded over his arm. He wasn't looking at her just then, though, seeming confident that she'd wake as instructed.

"Practicing your writing?" He asked, gesturing at a patch of ground a short distance from the cave.

She yipped, the sound making her jump slightly, as she stared at the ground. It took a moment before she realized the sound was what had become of the "no" she'd tried to say after which she shook her head.

"Maybe it was already there. It was rather dark when we arrived." He shrugged and tossed the blanket over her back. Even as he climbed up she was staring at it; the writing was strange, the letters oddly formed and the words spelled awkwardly. Who would write like that, or at all, really, so far from civilization?

"Let's get going. I'll hunt you some lunch on the way. And let's try flying this time; I can't take any more of your weird gait when you run."

Alicia tore her eyes from the writing and looked up at the sky. Flying, then. Well, she'd figure it out. Starting with a run seemed sensible and had the advantage of getting her away from the cave.

But the words written lingered in her mind.

SPECAL UNEEK BEUTY

U R DIAMOND AMONG ROCKS

* * *

The rest of the morning was uneventful. Flying turned out to be as easy as walking, if not more-so. Charles spent most of his time with his body tightly pressed against hers and his arms wrapped tightly around her neck, so much so that she had initially worried he would unintentionally strangle her. But her neck proved to be up to the task. Indeed, once in flight she barely even noticed his presence.

Initially it had been another story entirely; she'd gotten airborne by jumping off a low cliff and wasn't sure if the rush of glee was from the feel of air blowing over her body or from the way Charles' screamed and accused her of throwing them both to their deaths.

It was about midday when he jabbed her with his knee and made gestures she decided were probably intended to get her to land.

"It's time for lunch," he told her once they were settled onto the ground. She settled onto her haunches as he dropped the bag of vials that comprised most of his salvage from the caravan by her feet. "Wait here, I'll find something suitable for you."

Using a bow he had salvaged from the caravan he brought down something she thought might be a gazelle. The experience was educational and not just because it was the first time he'd done something that was primarily for her benefit. Though, admittedly, if she starved he'd be back to walking back to civilization.

After dragging the carcass back, he settled cross-legged onto the ground with some rather stale smelling travel rations and gestured for her to go at the dead animal. She made an uncertain chirp and looked between him and the apparent meal.

"Yes, that's your lunch." The way he spoke made Alicia feel like he was speaking to a child. She might be in an animal's body, but that didn't mean she was one! "We can hardly carry enough food for you with us. These travel rations wouldn't be much more than a bite for you."

She snorted. He had a point, but that didn't mean she had to like it, especially since he didn't appear to have the slightest intention of, say, cooking it. Still, her stomach was rumbling so she walked over to the carcass and tentatively sniffed at it.

Immediately she felt a wave of disgust; it was raw and still warm from living. And he expected her to eat it! Even as she felt horror about her prospective lunch, though, her stomach growled again.

How could he expect her to eat something like this? She was a civilized woman, not some beast! She was just, well, taking a break from her species, but only temporarily and only out of need.

Her silent protest was interrupted by the taste of blood in her mouth. Never before had she gotten so worked up that she'd bitten herself badly enough to draw blood.

Only, the taste was followed by the feel of something sliding down her throat. She looked down. Not one, but three bites had been taken from the carcass. And no one else was close enough.

She felt nauseous. Or hungry. One of the two, certainly. Well, definitely hungry, but perhaps a bit nauseous as well? The two didn't normally go together, but then, she wasn't normally a wyvern either.

"Good girl!" Charles called out like she was some kind of dog. She rolled her eyes. A few bites didn't mean she was going to eat the whole thing.

Then she looked down at the carcass, and realized she'd been eating it as she thought. As her tongue licked her lips clean of stray blood she realized she wasn't hungry at all anymore. Perhaps still nauseous, though.

No, she admitted to herself. She only wanted to be nauseous.

* * *

The remainder of the day passed without much of anything happening. They made good progress, coming much nearer to civilization and the edge of the Great Expanse. As they got closer to escaping the area, the land became increasingly lush and green. Towards evening there was even the occasional sign of habitation. Most of the buildings they saw were obviously abandoned, but a few showed signs of life.

Throughout the day she watched for her wyvern suitor, but got nothing for her efforts save Charles berating her for having the attention span of a gnat. Well, there was a shadow that had persistently followed them that could have been the wyvern, but it could equally have been a dark cloud.

Charles spent most of the time on her back, much more comfortable riding now than he had been before. He spent much of the time he wasn't berating her telling long stories that she couldn't hear most of; the only time she could reliably tell what he was saying was when he shouted. From what she could make out, however, she doubted she was missing anything and Charles seemed totally oblivious to her inattention to his storytelling.

They ended the days travel while there was still some light in the sky. Charles had spotted a house that was in good shape and expressed hope that it would be occupied by a friendly farmer. Given the lack of any signs of livestock or cultivated fields Alicia thought it rather less than likely, but it still looked like good shelter so she didn't comment.

Once on the ground Charles determined that the house was empty and in rather worse shape inside than the exterior suggested. He'd pointed her to the accompanying barn, a large, empty structure that had apparently survived whatever had devastated the house's interior. The way he sent her towards the barn made her think he had expected her to try and sleep in the house; even apart from his claims about the interior condition, she doubted she'd have fit. Even the thought caused her to shiver; it would be so easy for her to get stuck inside a house built to a human scale.

The barn doors were solidly stuck in place, but open enough that she was able to slip through into the gloom-filled interior. Comfortable animal smells filled the barn, suggesting that its former occupants hadn't been gone long. Despite the way the odours put her in mind of food more than anything else, she didn't feel particularly hungry. Instead, she just curled up on the hard-packed earth in the middle of the building.

For a time she drowsed, not sleeping, but not really awake either. The sounds and odours of Charles building a small fire outside the house came to her. She had seen him start to gather sticks from the increasingly common, if still scant, vegetation as she'd headed over to the barn. Apparently, whatever devastation existing inside the house had not left any conveniently sized and located bits of kindling, though come to think of it, he hadn't spent much time inside the house at all.

Her mind drifted, moving away from Charles and his avoidance of the abandoned house. It touched on her previous attempt to gain his protection, something she had lost any desire for, and returned to the male wyvern. A sigh escaped her and she squirmed, unable to attend to the spike of desire that filled her loins without disturbing her restful position. Her mind was too tired to connect her drifting thoughts to her body's reaction and, despite the urges of her loins, she slipped into sleep.

* * *

Twilight had not yet departed when she was awakened by the sound of Charles shouting.

"Alicia, quit skulking around! If you want something to eat, you'll have to find it yourself; it's too dark for me to hunt anything and I certainly don't have enough to share."

She blinked, raising her head. What was he talking about? She certainly wasn't skulking around; she'd been asleep. The shouting continued unabated as she pulled herself to her legs and stumbled towards the door. She couldn't imagine what had made him think she was sneaking around. Unless...

Unless the male wyvern had followed them after all. What with the poor lighting Charles probably couldn't tell her from the male. Even at high noon she doubted he'd be able to tell the difference; she certainly couldn't have, at least before being changed. The transformation, however temporary, certainly gave her a new incentive to learn about wyverns.

If Charles had been a wyvern he would have wanted to drive her rather determined suitor off. Not only that, he would have been able to do so, which she doubted would be the case now. If only, if only.

She walked over to the door and stuck her head out as she thought about it. Charles was next to his small fire with the small pot hanging on a crude spit as though to protect it from her depredations. Like he'd have been able to stop her! His shouts were directed towards the house and he was practically jumping up and down as he shouted, his arms waving angrily in the air.

Alicia made a point of walking noisily as she stepped out of the barn and he stopped, turning to her and blinking. He was standing so close to the fire that she could make out his expression quite clearly: his wide-eyed stare and mouth hanging open.

"So it wasn't you this time. Better go take a look." He gave her a glare as if to say it was her fault he had to make the effort, then grabbed a partially burning stick as a torch. This done, he began to circle the house. After a moment she followed him; if something was lurking about, she was better equipped to deal with it. At least, as long as it wasn't a certain wyvern.

As they circled the building she considered Charles. She hardly needed his protection, but she had to stick with him for now. He had the antidote for her transformation and she rather doubted he'd be willing to give it up early. It was a shame that the one thing she felt a need to be protected from he could do nothing about. If not for the antidote he'd be completely useless to her.

The one male wyvern she'd met seemed to be willing not to force itself on her, but they were doing a lot of traveling. That might not be so true of others.

If only Charles was bigger and more powerful. He'd be able to keep them away from her. Indeed, if he were a wyvern he'd feel compelled to do so; everyone knew male wyverns didn't get along.

They arrived back at Charles' camp fire having found nothing and he tossed his make-shift torch back into the fire. As near as Alicia could tell, Charles had been imagining things.

"Maybe it was just stuff inside, ah, settling." Charles sat down next to the campfire and stared at the pot over it. After a moment he stirred the contents.

"Don't think I plan to share," he told her when she didn't return to the barn. She ignored him; it was his bag of vials that had her attention. He had hauled it all this way without complaint and as such it had slipped from her mind. Perhaps she could...

No, it was not a good idea. Who knew if he had two vials of the antidote and, if he had to make the choice, she had no doubt who he would cure.

Still, as a wyvern he'd chase off her suitor and would be able to travel more readily. She'd need to be able to find the right vial, though, and she didn't even know if he had another, let alone whether she would recognize it. And he seemed disinclined to leave his still-cooking supper while she was present.

But opportunity decided to present itself; there was a thud from the direction of the barn. Since she was very visibly not there, Charles didn't even try to blame her. He took a brand from the fire and went once more to take a look.

Taking this as a sign, Alicia pushed open the bag of vials with her snout. Although they meant nothing to her, the labels on the vials were quite distinct, even in the rather bad lighting. It didn't take her long to find one with a label she was sure matched that of the vial he'd given her; her search had revealed that, while Charles had a lot of vials in his bag, there were only half a dozen or so distinct labels.

She was able to lift the vial out of the bag with her tongue; this organ proved to be longer and rather more dexterous than she'd realized, though admittedly she had never thought to investigate it.

Holding the vial revealed the greatest challenge in her plan: she had no way to open it. Fearing Charles would return before she finished she didn't even try to open it properly; she jammed it between her teeth and bit down, letting the contents run out of her mouth and into the pot on the fire accompanied by some saliva and a few pieces of glass. At least if the travel rations tasted as bad as they smelt he very well might not notice.

The remains of the vial she spat out into the darkness; by the time there was enough light for them to be seen, Charles would already know what she'd done, one way or another.

She had just settled to the ground when the light of Charles' makeshift torch came back into view and him along with it. No doubt this left her equally visible in the fire's light. She looked towards him, curious what he had found.

"Don't feel like heading back to the barn? I suppose you can watch me eat. Don't expect anything, though!"

He settled by the fire as he spoke, stirring his pot and grumbling about the low quality of the caravan's food supply. Never mind that the bandits had stolen anything they considered remotely edible.

Alicia had nearly drifted off back to sleep by the time Charles deemed his dinner edible, but the sound of him starting to eat brought her back to full awareness. She didn't move, just opening her eyes enough to watch him; no sense doing anything that would give herself away just yet.

He ate slowly, looking at anything but his food as he did. But, other than his repeated grimaces as he ate, nothing happened. Remembering how quickly it had affected her it seemed that either diluting the potion or cooking it had ruined the potion's effects.

* * *

Time passed and though Alicia thought she should probably go back to the barn to sleep now that her plan had failed, she was comfortably settled in near the fire and the night chill wasn't affecting her.

It was quite late when something finally happened; Charles had been yawning more and more often, though he seemed reluctant to go to sleep.

He cried out, his voice piercing the still, quiet night air. His hands grasped at the air before him and he fell backwards twitching. A glazed look filled his eyes. After a moment he began to grab at his body, clawing at it with his fingers, even as he continued whimpering.

At the same moment that Charles had cried out, a wyvern stepped out of the darkness and into the light of the fire. It not only looked like the same one Alicia had seen before, but it also smelled the same. Though her sense of smell had been unremarkable before her change it now made her confident of the wyvern's identity.

"What?" Charles managed to gasp out. "Why you-" He choked mid-sentence. "You little-" His second attempt at speaking, at cursing her, fared no better than the first. With obvious effort he managed to roll himself onto his hands and knees before collapsing again.

The wyvern paused and looked down at him as it passed, its head tilted. It made a curious whine and prodded the human with one of its hind-feet. When Charles did nothing more than grunt in response, it turned away from him and brought its attention onto Alicia.

She backed away into the darkness, her eyes moving between Charles and the wyvern. What was wrong with him? Why wouldn't he get up? Everything was going wrong! As she moved back she crouched, drawing into herself. Charles had finally proved himself totally worthless by collapsing when Alicia actually needed him.

Even as she slowly fled, the wyvern continued to approach her, taking slow, deliberate steps and weaving easily around the fire. She continued backing away, but was quickly becoming aware of the barn approaching from behind. It was quickly appearing that her only escape would be to take flight, but she hadn't become quite desperate enough to do so in the depths of night.

The further Alicia got from the campfire the more time her eyes stayed on the wyvern approaching her. His movements were as graceful as if he was some bestial dancer; his every footstep was delicate and deliberate. Sleek, powerful muscles shifted below his hide, showing no sign of either famine or fat. His long tail stuck out behind him, swaying with every step of his hind-legs.

If he wasn't a beast Alicia would have found him rather attractive. As it was she shook her head, trying to clear it. She would not be attracted to an animal, no matter how good he looked or how much he seemed to be attracted to her.

Charles chose that moment to cry out once more, attracting the attention of both Alicia and the wyvern.

"Why you bloody little-" The words cut off with a gasp. "I'll kill you!"

At first it seemed like just more of the same, but as she watched his body not only writhed on the ground, but it changed, twisting in on itself and tearing his clothing apart. Limbs were visibly thickening and lengthening even as his face was shifting into a muzzle. His buttocks seemed deformed until she realized what she was seeing was the extension of his spine; it was pushing the skin outwards, but the muscle wasn't growing as quickly so the new tail was narrow and limp.

"Idiot! Fool!" His words were hard to understand as though his throat was damaged. Which was essentially what had happened; she couldn't speak at all. Neither had she heard the real wyvern make anything that could be interpreted as words.

"I don't want to be stuck as some beast!"

It was the longest string of words he'd managed since the changes had begun, but also the hardest to understand and, as it would turn out, his last. None of this was noticed by Alicia. She was far more concerned about what he had said.

Stuck as a beast? What about the antidote? If he had only one she couldn't imagine him giving it to her instead of himself and, besides, he'd had quite a few of everything when she'd looked through his bag.

He'd not only told her he had a cure, but he'd shown it to her. It was one of the many cryptically labeled vials. And since he seemed to know his change was her fault it couldn't be that he didn't think he could get the bottle open as a wyvern. Well, she suspected he'd have blamed her regardless, but however he came on to the belief, it had to suggest that she at least could open a vial, didn't it?

She stared at him as her mind spun, searching his face for clues even as it was twisted into a new shape. His only deliberate action was to glare at her.

It wasn't until she heard its footsteps that she remembered the presence of the wyvern. The creature had turned, facing Charles, and taken a few steps towards him. She could see its nostrils flaring, taking in the air.

The transformation had progressed greatly; Charles looked like nothing more than a pint-sized wyvern now and even his curses had become barks. As much as she appreciated not having to hear him curse, she knew that it would make it far more difficult to get the truth out of him. What had he meant by being stuck as a beast?

He drew himself to his feet, body no longer twisting under the influence of the changes. For a moment he was able to balance on his hind-legs, but then he fell onto all fours. He seemed oblivious of the approach of the real wyvern.

They were close enough together now for Alicia to see that the only major difference between the two was size. The real wyvern seemed to realize it at the same time, letting out a massive roar before it snapped at Charles with its jaws.

No! The word turned into a bark that distracted both males from each other and for a moment they stared at her. From the way he stared at her, the way he never even glanced at his bag of vials, she knew.

He had lied.

* * *

All three stared at each other in silence. The real wyvern was the first to act, breaking the tranquility of the scene by lunging at Charles, snapping at the former human's neck. Charles dove out of the way at the last minute, rolling across the ground.

This wasn't what she had wanted! She'd wanted Charles to drive off the male, but he couldn't do that unless he had time to finish changing first. How could she have expected it to have affected him so much more slowly?

At least if there really was no antidote he would be sharing her fate. That would be the one pleasure she got out of the situation, if a vindictive one. But if he was killed fighting the real wyvern it would hardly matter. The real wyvern still had a definite size advantage and, presumably, an experience advantage as well.

She sighed, hunkering down to watch the battle and await the outcome. As the wyvern stepped over Charles, planting one foot on the new wyvern's chest, it seemed as though the battle would be short and the outcome a foregone conclusion. But once more Charles was able to dodge, twisting away from his attacker.

His escape still left him on the ground, but Charles didn't let this stop him as he snapped at the real wyvern's leg with his jaws. One surprised yelp later and they were both on the ground. Well, almost on the ground. The real wyvern had managed to land on top of Charles, eliciting a yelp from the former human. Ever desperate, Charles didn't let the opportunity escape; he clamped onto the larger wyvern's neck with his jaws even as he squirmed under its weight.

The flaw in this plan was quickly revealed; size wasn't the only part of the transformation left. The real wyvern's neck slipped right out of Charles' mouth and for a brief moment Alicia got a glimpse of his toothless jaw in the firelight. Charles didn't let the setback slow him down; he threw himself at his attacker's leg, wrapping his smaller body around it and biting at it with his gums.

It wasn't until the real wyvern clamped onto Charles' neck with its own jaws that Alicia realized he had still been growing. He was nearly the size of her would-be suitor now, though it appeared that it would be too late to save him.

Charles was dragged across the ground, his limbs flailing ineffectually, as the real wyvern backed towards the fire. He whimpered as the real wyvern shook its head and him with it.

It was only at this point that Alicia realized that not only was she not horrified at the sight of the life and death struggle before her, but she could feel a moistness between her hind legs. With every moment the bestial, pure animal wyvern was looking more attractive, more powerful. She found herself watching eagerly, looking forward to her former companion's defeat.

Then the wyvern would be hers. No competition, no distractions.

Her mind flinched from the thought, from the powerful image of being mounted by the beast, but even as it did she realized she was grinding her loins against the hard ground for what slight stimulation it provided.

He was so strong, so powerful, so-

Animal. No! She wouldn't give in. She wouldn't rut with the wyvern like some beast. Even if she was trapped in the body of an animal, she was human were it counted.

She turned her thoughts from her increasingly disturbing urges and revelations. It came as no surprise that Charles was still on the ground, on his back. He was staring up into her suitor's jaws, one of her suitor's hind feet solidly on his belly. The only thing coming from him was a soft whining; he had stopped struggling entirely, despite now nearly matching the other wyvern in size.

They remained frozen in that tableau for several minutes, then the victor, her suitor, removed his foot and walked away from Charles, his back to the defeated wyvern.

Charles rolled to his feet, moving towards the other wyvern while crouched low to the ground. For a moment Alicia thought he was going to attack again, but he grabbed the bag of vials from next to the fire in his jaws then turned and fled the scene, heading directly away from the real wyvern.

Was there an antidote after all? She stared after Charles for a moment before realizing it didn't matter. If one of the vials was an antidote, it was gone.

Alicia looked at her saviour, the proud and noble warrior who had proven his virility in battle, albeit a rather one-sided one. Or perhaps he was the crude beast, set on rutting with her now that he had her alone. He turned to her as she was shaking her head, trying to clear it.

Why couldn't she think straight?

Her eyes met his. Once more she got the feeling that if she declined, he would accept it. Probably not happily, but he would accept it.

Oh, how she wanted him to cover her, to feel him on her back, thrusting into her. How she wanted to flee, to hide herself away from the world and forget it all existed.

As she stared into his eyes she knew. There would be no distractions, no more delays. This, now, was when she would decide.

* * *

Her wyvern suitor stood poised, the firelight casting shadows over his body. Her eyes were locked with his, lost in their depths. Tension filled his body, unmistakably visible in his muscles. Periodically he would take a step forward, then moments later step back again. Sometimes he stepped back first before returning to his starting position.

He was waiting, poised to move. It was fight or flight, only the fight was over. Fuck or flight then. He'd won the battle against his competition, but it was yet to be seen if he'd won the battle for her acceptance.

She certainly didn't know. And thus they remained. She could feel a warmth in her loins and could see the slight protrusion between his hind-legs, though its color was lost to the shadows. Her gaze drifted down to it. When she realized this she jerked it down, telling herself she was breaking his gaze.

He wasn't just waiting for her instinctive response; she was already moist where it mattered. He was waiting for her decision. Even she could smell her body's reaction, its need, now, but still her suitor waited for her decision. It had to be driving him crazy, but despite this he showed more patience than Charles, who had been human, had.

In the end, that was made the decision for her and she started acting on it even before she realized she had decided.

She took a step forward. A second. Her head and chest were held low with her tail raised like an erotic signal pole. Her mind told her it was a pose of submission, but her body was communicating something quite different. To her body, the only thing her pose signalled was lust.

She raised her head, licking the underside of the male's jaws and nuzzled his throat. The smell of Charles during every stage of his transformation clung to the wyvern, as did a number of other scents, some even less pleasant than Charles'.

Stepping in closer to him, she rubbed herself over his hide, erasing the smell of his rival. Part of her mind still protested, screaming at this bestial behaviour, but she remained decided. How much part her human mind had in that decision she wasn't sure; it was becoming more distant as the instinctive dance of bodies took over

He ran his head down her neck and back, his warm breath blowing over her hide, sending shivers through her. Her head slipped along his chest, moving towards his groin. The scent of his musk was filling her nostrils, strong and animal. There was no way she would ever forget it or mistake it. It seemed to bypass her brain and sink straight to her loins.

She wanted him. Doubt had, at least for the moment, fled her mind. Her body burned with desire and her loins were wet and sensitive like they'd never been before. She took a few steps, moving out from under him, and turned, presenting her loins to the powerful male, her mate. With that thought she thrust backwards even though he wasn't in position. Yet.

With only the light of the fire she couldn't see his shadow overtake her, but she didn't need to. She could feel the warmth of his body around her, the rough brush of his hide against her. One of his wings pulled her tail down, holding it against his flank. She shivered as his chest rubbed against her spin. A soft sound, somewhere between a purr and a growl, surprised her, especially when she realized she was the one making it.

His wing-arms wrapped around her chest, sliding backwards. The thumbs of his wings caught on her thighs, pulling the hide there back tightly as he pulled her against him. She could feel his shaft brush against her tail. His leg brushed against her as he lifted it, positioning it over her tail. The motion caused his shaft to rub against her more vigorously; it left a sticky trail even as it grew.

She could feel his weight pressing down on her as he shifted, getting himself into the right position and searching for her entrance. The weight didn't disturb her; if anything it comforted her.

He found what he was looking for. She let out a short bark as he pushed into her, her folds yielding only reluctantly as he gently pushed into her. Only the very tip of his shaft had penetrated before he pulled back. She pushed back, wanting to feel more of him inside of her.

His hips began to rock, each thrust pushing a bit deeper into her. Every thrust was more satisfying, more filling. He seemed to be continuing to grow even as he mounted her, plunging her deeper and deeper into her depths. Her mouth hung open as she panted, pushing back against him. Her hips push back against his thrusts, meeting him more forcefully.

With every thrust he slid in more easily, her folds loosening against his gentle onslaught. Belatedly she realized that her transformation had left her a virgin once more, at least physically. Despite her expectations, this deflowering was far more pleasant than the original.

His breath was loud in her ears, its moist warmth blowing over her neck. It was more rapid than hers and almost matched the pace of her racing heart. She shivered as he ran his chin up her spine and again as his jaws slipped around her neck. It wasn't an aggressive move like it had been in the battle, but rather a strangely erotic feel that drove her to press against him even harder. Her head rose, eyes closed, as she pressed her neck deeper into his jaws. Her lover might be an animal, but never had she trusted anyone as much as he.

All through this he continued to plunge into her, sliding into her depths easily now despite how immense he felt. She gasped as something wider and more firm than his shaft was pushed into her, then again as a second and finally a third joined the first. With each of his thrusts they spread her, teased her, stimulated her ever more. Each rubbed against the most sensitive of her flesh as it pushed in and out drew out of her.

A joyful wave ran through her body, starting at her loins and spreading outwards. As it passed her chest it was joined by a deep, long roar that echoed out into the night. She could feel it in her chest and throat as it escaped. It echoed back as a distant roar, one that sounded familiar. She had heard it in the past, but never would she have guessed it was the sound of rutting wyverns.

He wasn't finished though, and showed no signs of recognizing her climax. Her loins, even more sensitive now, reacted all the more to his thrusts and she quivered below him, hopelessly lost in the feelings. She could do no more than squirm in his increasingly tight grasp. Even the slightest brush of his hide against her was sending shivers of pleasure through her body. She couldn't take another moment without losing her mind; she wished it would never stop, leaving her in perpetual, unending bliss.

Alas, she felt his body become tense as he buried himself deep inside her before locking in place. She could feel his shaft throb and knew he was filling her with his seed; she pushed back against him, wanting it all. At the same time, her human sensibilities began to rise again, disgusted at what she'd done. But not disgusted enough for her to push her lover away.

Then he was pulling out in a single, slow motion, She felt each of the ridges on his shaft pop out of her and with each some his seed slipped out as well, soaking her loins and dripping down the inside of her thighs.

Once he stepped off of her she collapsed to the ground, still quivering, even the feel of the night-chilled ground enough to send spikes of bliss through her body.

She watched as her lover stretched out on the ground. Though the fire had nearly died, there was still enough light for her to see his shaft was still exposed. He bent his neck, bringing his snout near his shaft. His tongue snaked out, wrapping around his shaft and she remembered how dexterous her own had been when she'd retrieved one of Charles' vials.

Her tongue worked over her lips as she watched him clean their fluids off of his shaft, his efforts hampered by a second climax, but he seemed undisturbed by this and licked the resulting semen from his chest and snout as well.

Afterwards he laid his head on the ground and seemed to instantly fall into sleep. Only then did Alicia realize that he had to have positioned himself deliberately for her to have had such a good view, especially considering the nearly dead fire. She couldn't help but briefly wonder what her lover's seed tasted like when he'd licked it off of himself.

Though she still felt keyed up from their union, Alicia surprised herself by falling asleep almost instantly.

* * *

Sleep was uneven, coming and going repeatedly through the remainder of the night. The first time she awoke she found herself thinking clearly for the first time since she'd first encountered the male wyvern. She looked towards where he was, or at least where she thought he was. Though he couldn't have been more than a dozen feet away, the darkness made it impossible to actually see him; passing clouds must have been covering the sky as not even the stars where visible and even Charles' fire had finally died. She knew he was still there, though. Not only could she smell him and their coupling, she could hear him breath in his sleep.

Looking at him she couldn't help but shudder, this time not with desire or anticipation, but rather in disgust. She had let an animal rut with her. Worse, she had been an activate participant. And even now she could feel the fires of that lust burning within her, though they were momentarily banked.

Every time she woke through the night, those fires were burning a little bit brighter. However much she might have wanted to avoid it, she knew she would inevitably give in to them again. And she couldn't even flee; the darkness of the night would make flying dangerous; even walking she would be likely to walk into things.

Besides, the male had already demonstrated both the ability and inclination to follow her. She wasn't sure she even wanted to leave; his strong musk was already shifting from horrifying to attractive and a familiar dampness formed between her hind legs.

Covering her snout with her wings, she tried to block out his scent and his memory. And silently she prayed that morning would never come, that she would never have to deal with things as they had become.

It was nearly morning when finally the urges got too strong. She roused herself, stumbling over the ground, her mind still groggy from waking and from the poor quality of her sleep. The male, her male, was still sleeping, but she had no trouble waking him, especially when she shoved her snout into his crotch.

Their rutting was more awkward, the faint morning light making for poor visibility and their grogginess making everything harder. But they managed and she was surprised to find it even more satisfying this time than she had the last.

This time when he pulled out she took the initiative, licking his shaft clean before he had a chance to do it himself. The male made no complaint, though, and spread his legs to make sure she had plenty of room.

His seed and, to a lesser degree, his shaft had a strange, bitter taste, but both where enjoyable in a way she would never have expected and she felt a brief bang of disappointment when she finished before she told herself to stop being silly; there was no way she had enjoyed licking the wyvern's shaft.

They both settled to the ground once more, her muzzle not far from the male's hips, and his masculine scent filling her nostrils. It was the only thing she could smell and, this time, she slept soundly.

* * *

When she woke up she did so alone. The smell of the male was still strong in the air, making it impossible for her to forget him or the way she had rutted with him. Even the taste of his seed on her tongue remained; it seemed that everything was determined to keep her from forgetting.

She couldn't help but think of his seed inside of her and she couldn't help but wonder if she had become pregnant with his spawn. From the way her mood had been swinging she feared she was experiencing the animal state of estrus. If so she was almost certainly pregnant.

A sound made her look up, searching her surroundings for its source. It looked like it was mid-morning, though there were heavy clouds hanging in the air, making it difficult to tell. No signs of rain, though, which she would have welcomed. But she already knew it rarely rained in the Great Expanse.

The strange sound repeated itself a few times before she spotted its source; a wyvern was approaching. Her wyvern. He had a surprisingly substantial carcass grasped in his hind-feet and bloodstains on his muzzle, but even before he landed she could smell his scent begin filling the area once more.

She was surprised to find herself relaxing. The idea that she might enjoy his company was not one she cared for, but she couldn't get her body to feel tense on demand, at least not for long and not without conscious effort.

The male wyvern dropped the carcass before he landed and it made a sound somewhere between a thud and a splat. Repulsed as she felt, she also began to salivate despite the inevitably raw nature of the prospective meal; it had been nearly a day since she'd last eaten.

He stepped towards her, scuffing the ground with the thumb of his wing as he did.

No, not scuffing. He shuffled sideways, his thumb brushing over new areas of earth, and left the marks he'd made open to her sight.

She stared at them, uncomprehending. He could not have created them; it was simply not possible. Beasts did not write. It was nearly a defining trait of animals to be illiterate. Yet, there it was before her, marked into the ground. The words were crude, rough, oversized, and overly abbreviated, but there was no denying that the wyvern was literate.

U R AWAK

It was only when the male cleared his throat, or rather, uttered a soft and surprisingly gentle bark, that she realized she'd been staring at the words. She looked to see him looking at her, head tilted and blinking.

Stepping up near where he had written his message, she dragged her own into the hard earth. It was hard effort, harder than he had made it look, and while she doubted the male wyvern had her formal training, he certainly had more experience with the task, especially under the circumstances.

Besides, she could hardly believe he could write at all. It seemed entirely possible that he had been trained at it, more likely than him actually being literate. Perhaps as a parlor trick by some human.

It took far longer for her to write her message and even then her letters were rather less legible than his, sometimes missing parts or having extra lines where she hadn't lifted her thumb enough. By the time she was finished there was a soreness in her wing she hadn't felt even after spending most of a day flying.

YES. YOU CAN WRITE?

He spent only a moment looking at her words before adding new text beside what he'd written before. As he did she realized that he was writing upside-down; his letters faced her, as did her own. Fortunately he seemed quite able to read her words as well; she doubted she'd be able to write at all legibly if she had to write them upside-down.

SO CAN U

Of course! She was human, or had been until recently. Maybe he'd been transformed as well?

No, she realized. He had clearly expected her to be able to read. A majority of humans couldn't; she felt her cheeks burn as she realized this meant wyverns, viewed as animals, were quite possibly more literate than the supposedly superior humans. But then, very little was known of wild wyverns. Most were descended by those escaped or released from human service. Perhaps that's where he learned to write. Though other animals that had spent at least as much time in human company were still entirely illiterate.

I AM-

She paused in her reply and with reluctance crossed out the last word.

I WAS HUMAN.

He nodded.

I SAW. IS AWKWARD.

Awkward for him or her? Writing, Alicia was coming to realize, did not substitute well for speech, even aside from the slowness.

CAN YOU SPEAK?

He shook his head.

NO WVRNS CAN. EAT. I WILL EXPLAIN.

He gestured over to the carcass with his snout. She walked over to it, leaning over and sniffing it while trying not to look at it. Like what Charles had brought her before it appeared to be gazelle-like.

Closing her eyes she lowered her head, attempting to take a delicate bite out of it. The course fur on the carcass's hide brushed against her chin, making her shudder, but she steeled herself to her task. It did not get easier as she continued forcing herself to eat.

When she heard a scuttling sound behind her she started to turn and look, but stopped herself. If she didn't eat her fill now she doubted she could bring herself to return to the task. And unless a cure suddenly appeared it was a task she would have to get used to.

It took all too long before she felt sated and even when she did she could still taste blood in her mouth and could feel its traces congealing on her snout. She longed to wash it off, but already knew that there were no bodies of water nearby. Hopefully the male wouldn't notice; even if she could feel the blood, it wasn't necessarily visible.

Once she turned back to the male wyvern she gasped; although she had heard him moving around as she ate, she had never imagined he might have undertaken such a massive project as she saw before her; writing covered a large portion of the ground. Despite the awkward spellings and abbreviations, he was clearly more practiced at writing then she, having managed all of it while she ate.

As she settled down to read it, puzzling it out, the male wyvern began to finish off the carcass, eating with much more vigor than she had; raw meat was clearly an acquired taste.

Most of it was an apology for the abruptness of his suit; he had been flying overhead when she'd been changed and had decided follow along; new wyverns (as opposed to natural born ones) were rare and often had trouble adjusting. It would not be good for her first encounter to be with one of the sadly plentiful un-socialized individuals. He had approached her in an attempt to communicate the first night, only to discover that she'd gone into heat.

Charles' transformation had surprised him; the male showed no indication of knowing that Alicia had set Charles up for it and she didn't intend to enlighten him. It was the wyvern's opinion that Charles would make a poor wyvern, but not a troublesome one.

This was followed by an offer to take her to the Shrine of the Wyverns, a place sacred to wyverns were their history and culture was recorded. Of which, he admitted, there wasn't very much, but it was still dutifully recorded.

Finally, his text mentioned that he knew of an empty cave less than a day's flight away; it was out of the major flight-paths and not far from the entrance was a clean spring that feed into an idyllic stream. It would be, he not-so-subtly hinted, a good place to raise a child.

Once she had finished reading she looked up to see he had finished earing and was stretched out on the ground, head resting on his wings, watching her. Behind him she could see the mostly consumed carcass; little remained of it now but bones. He lifted his head and glanced towards distant-looking hills and she followed his gaze.

Finally, she nodded to the male and moments later they both burst into flight, the downdraft wiping away his words even as their wings carried them rapidly away from the remains of her former life.

This new life wasn't what she had planned for or wanted, but things could certainly be far worse.

---

The text of this story is released under the Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 3.0 Unported License.