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Damren tilted his wings into a downward descent. The speckles of green became larger, covering almost everything his sapphire eyes could see. The arboreal scent of pine needles and life filled the air, along with the subtle flagrance of moss. The dragon growled, eyes searching for the water source. Mountains shed their ice coats during the warm months of summer, making water easy to find. He veered once, then plummeted towards the lake.

Flapping his wings rapidly above the water, Damren landed in a splash of droplets and mud. Cold water seeped into his scales, making the dragon yowl in displeasure. Two leaps had him on dry ground, where he shook the water off his night colored scales. Long caresses of tongue dried and warmed Damren's paws and fingers as the dragon lowered his serpentine head, licking each front paw methodically. He hated cold, and air has been frigid as of late.

Damren repeated the same treatment for his hind legs, then took several gulps from the cold lake. His lithe tongue felt numb with each sip of--

A rustle. No. Something else.

Damren perked his head. Wind carried the cold scents of the mountains, but more noticeable than that was the sound of flapping wings. Black slits tightened as they met the sun's glare and a familiar shape dropping from the sky. Another dragon! Damren's wings flapped twice with excitement. He crouched, wings folded close to the sides, tail swishing restlessly. Dragons were not the most sociable of creatures. Even though groups were formed here and there, Damren's siblings dispersed once mating season hit in full strength. Lone dragons were efficient hunters, yet solitude only appeased few of them, and Damren was not about to waste such opportunity. He waited like a predator for the other dragon to meet the ground, then approached. Slowly, like he did before the thorn of loneliness pierced him.

Damren tested the air. The whiffs of air whispered of the dragon's last meal and the place he slept in. Two more steps. Claws dug into the soft earth without making a sound. Or did they? The sun-scaled dragon turned his head, barring teeth at the threat hiding in the tall grasses.

A challenge!

The earth moaned as deep gashes tore into it. Grasses bended and flowers lost their petals in the storm following a dragon's charge. A dozen leaps powered by wing beats closed the distance between the two creatures. They snarled at each other, wings flared, tails swishing, and tongue poking between teeth. Size favored none, only posture. Damren approached, arching his neck above his rival's. The sun-scaled snapped, but teeth failed to meet scales. It wasn't a bite, just a sign. An action betraying the dragon's lacking strength and confidence. Damren took another step. A hiss and a flap of wings had the unsettled dragon backing off a few step.

Weakness. It was retreating.

Damren leaped, onyx claws meeting the bright yellow scales of the dragon's shoulder. They snapped and bit at each other's necks, all while trying to seize advantage with paw strikes and wing slaps. It didn't last more than a few heartbeats. Damren stood on his feet, hissing, while his opponent still snarled and pawed at his neck with feeble swipes. None mattered. The dragon's exposed belly settled the seemingly aggressive start of every greeting ritual.

Concession, followed. Both of the dragons nuzzled each other's necks with terse motion of their scaled snouts. Damren growled in delight. He liked this rough feeling, the caress of scales upon scales, even though the scent of this other dragon was vividly male. Damren didn't care. His desire for company was almost as great as the primal urges.

And four quick, persistent bites were about to secure that. Damren jumped back, almost avoiding the kick of the sun-scaled's paws. Beating his wings, the dragon found purchase on the solid ground. Damren snarled and tackled the other male.

If only he could.

Flapping his wings, the dragon leaped out of the way, and fighting gave way to chase. Light and dark chased each other like day and night around the lake. Strong limbs gave the creatures surprising agility as they switched from prey to predator, nipping at each other's tails.

When exhaustion threatened to settle, play replaced chase. Growls and hisses filled the air. Dragons never played gently. With claws the size of a knife and teeth sharp enough to pierce through any hide, injuries were bound to happen. A flurry of paws and wings ensued, in which each dragon tried getting leverage over his opponent. Damren pawed at a horned head, but the sun scaled caught the forepaw in his maw, pressing it. The sting of pain enflamed Damren's retaliation, though neither dragon aimed to injure.

Damren rarely felt more alive. Prey never offered the same challenge as kin. Testing his skills against a dragon, taking in the scents, feeling the surge of predatory instincts felt overpowering. Damren growled, the sound not harsh and threatening, but soft and filled with the desire for something else. After all, he had the other dragon where he wanted: on the ground.

Damren sniffed the male's neck, trailing down to his chest and belly, A whiff between the dragon's hind legs only hardened his purpose. Damren brushed his snout past the male's hind paw and straddled him. The golden male barely had the time to register what happened. He yelped and panicked, but Damren allowed him no such thing. With a restraining bite to the neck, he forced the male still. Then, he thrust. The hardened member poked here and there with no particular aim. White wings flapped wildly as the male tried to rise. Damren roared. Control slipped quickly from his grasp. Prey escaped grasp, but not before a jet of urine sprang from throbbing member.

The sun scaled male lifted a pristine wing and licked the liquid off his flank scales. That didn't matter. Both of the dragons knew what that meant as they stared at each other: domination.

Damren approached, meeting the other male's snout. They nuzzled each other, growling and yipping. There was no animosity between them, proven by the submissive licks caressing Damren's chin. The black dragon settled near his bonded brother and extended a wing over his form. The other male growled softly and gave Damren a few quick licks before placing his head between the black dragon's forepaws. Damren welcomed the attention. With another dragon besides him, he felt fulfilled. His own tongue snaked between the teeth, and what started as a domination affair turned into a full grooming session, with both dragons licking each other's scales in long, sweeping motions.

This simple affection had Damren's throat rumble with joy. It was like each of his scales caught fire, a fact proven by his throbbing member. It pushed into the ground, forced by mighty throbs. The friction alone sent a jolt of elation through the dragon's spine.

Damren growled, teeth nibbling on whatever they found. In this case, it was the other male's paw, and the dragon seemed to enjoy it. A growl escaped Damren's throat. Pressing concerns stole his attention as his horned head buried under a raised wing. His own needy scent became overpowering. Damren flicked out his tongue, lapping seedily at the tip of his member. A muffled growl seethed from his maw as his hips involuntarily pushed. The urge to release pressed him to lick lick lick. With each tongue he tasted more of his own fluids. With each taste, he licked quicker. Claws dug into the ground, wings stretched to their full span, and tail started slapping the ground as release threatened to burst.. His member throbbed once, twice--

Damren jaw refused to move as a different set of vocalizations erupted from his throat. The peak of pleasure was overpowering. Throb after throb drove the seed out of his engorged member. The first two spurts hit his snout. His crimson tongue lapped at the liquid, but what didn't splash on the dragon's snout coated the soil and the grass with a pearlescent sheen. With a last, half hearted yowl, Damren relaxed his tense frame. Tiredness immediately settled in. Wings lowered back on either side of his body as the dragon coiled his neck around his form. Damren gave the retreating member a couple of licks before wrapping his sinewy tail around his body.

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