When Druids Cross Faction
#1 of Their Faction is Nature
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Theagrim Earthmane was on his seventh day scouting in the thick forests of Ashenvale north of the Barrens. He was one of a growing number of Tauren druids emerging since Hamuul Runetotem befriended the Night Elf, Malfurion Stormrage. Though the druids of each culture were on friendly terms, the Horde was apparently at odds with the Alliance, which included the Night Elves. Theagrim found the issue needlessly complicated, aware that the Burning Legion was the true threat to Alliance or Horde alike, but he was not interested in petty politics. Never-the-less he was scouting the forests of the "enemy" for information.
He had been a fast learner, quickly mastering his control over a variety of animal forms, including some lesser taught ones. Though every new druid first learned how to shift into the mighty form of the bear, and many learned the grace and agility of the cat, he had contacted other animal spirits to learn their great mystery and power. It was his versatility in forms that had made him such a great choice for spying in Ashenvale. Not even a Night Elf druid would have recognized some of his forms.
He had never met a Night Elf, himself, and he knew that many Night Elves had never either. And some of the few old enough to remember the great history of their race could only vaguely recall the aid the Tauren had given their people ten thousand years ago, at the first coming of the Burning Legion. The tension between the two races had just begun, and he knew that as time passed and the Horde and the Alliance clashed over land and resource, Night Elves would fear Tauren and Orc alike. He hoped the first meeting he had with a Night Elf was a peaceful meeting involving the Cenarion Circle, and not a meeting borne of battle on one of his missions for the Horde.
As he padded along, taking the silent form of the lion, he kept his eyes alert for "enemy" activity, but found none. The forests were huge, and populated largely by forest creatures. He had heard of a Night Elf settlement far to the northwest, but he was not supposed to be looking there. There were concerns for Night Elf activity in the area to the south, controlled by the Horde, though he had yet to see any. His tawny fur stood out, somewhat, among the greens, blues, and pinks of the great forest, and the great horns sprouting from the forehead coupled with his long fangs were the only features that might lend someone to suspect he was not a common lion.
He had been searching for days and found nothing, further proof that the tension between the two factions was a manufactured political tension, and not one borne of practicality. He sighed, bored. His powers could have been put to better use in the Barrens, or the deserts near Zul Farrak. There was nothing to watch here but the animals. And watch the animals he did. He found great pleasure in participating in the life cycle of nature - in the breathtaking interconnectedness of the forest ecosystem. He had hunted several times on this trip to supplement his diet with meat, instead of mere foraged roots and berries. There was something undoubtedly beautiful about the forest.
Theagrim smelled something adrift in the wind with his feline snout, and he tracked it down quickly, creeping along until he reached the end of his trail. It was a doe, picking her way through the underbrush, eyes alert and cautious, but unaware that she was being watched. He hadn't seen many does in this section of the woods, perhaps because only the large stags were strong enough to survive long amongst the more dangerous animals of southern Ashenvale. But he sensed that it was the stags for whom the young doe searched. He had smelled it on the wind - the doe was in heat.
He resisted his initial urge to pounce. He had already had a large enough meal, and it was not proper to hunt beyond one's needs. But he smiled, realizing he could participate in another, equally important and more enjoyable part of the life cycle. Calling upon the great spirit of the Stag, he quickly morphed his entire body into a stellar example of a stag - well muscled with light brown fur, his antlers were instead Tauren horns, but other than this and his large size, he was the picture of a young, powerful stag.
The doe was startled to see him, but after her initial bound away from him, she paused, looking him over. He raised his head proudly, displaying his rack. He stepped forward confidently. Although this was a rare occurrence, whenever he came across a female animal in heat who was one of the many forms he could take, he liked to help them out. He sniffed the air. She was far along her estrus, and he suspected she would be ready.
As he approached her, she quivered, bleating. He got the impression that she had not done this before, and this excited the Tauren. When she turned away, crouching to release a stream of hot urine, he could smell that she was receptive. She stood again, lifting her flag to present her fluffy rump, her pink entrance in the middle of the soft portrait. She was surprised, turning her head to look back at him when he stuck his snout up under her tail, running his soft tongue across her virgin lips. Her scent filled his nose, causing his long penis to stiffen. In this form, the scent of a young doe in heat was possibly the greatest experience there could be.
Theagrim shifted his massive weight to his hind legs, readying himself to mount, and the doe provided no protest. She was ready for him, or at least she thought she was. With a mighty push against the ground, the Tauren lifted his cloven forelegs over the deer, resting half his weight on the female's back. His long, red, thin shaft was lined up precisely with the pink bulls-eye adorning her rump.
He wondered if other druids, Night Elf or otherwise, shared his fascination with the animal form. He suspected that they would frown upon his participation in the mating habits of the creatures he merely imitated, by blessing of their great animal spirits. But he felt such a connection when in each form, a connection beyond words. A connection he had never had with Tauren females, either physically or mentally. It did not matter - he would keep this aspect of his druidic training a secret, even to Hamuul.
Gently, he shoved himself forward, piercing the doe's internal passage with just the firm tip of his glistening red erection. She would need time to get used to the penetration, and he leaned his great head forward to lick her slender neck as the doe gasped, bleating in surprise and confusion at her first penetration. He paused, bleating softly in pleasure as he restrained himself, feeling the very end of his penis nestled just within her wet passage-way, being squeezed by the young deer.
She quivered beneath him, shuddering at the feel of the much larger stag just barely within her. Her hind legs trembled with the effort of keeping him aloft, and she swished her tail nervously, rubbing it against his abdomen. Her mouth was open in what Theagrim took to be pleasure and pain, her ears laid back submissively. He supposed she may be thinking now that she wasn't ready for him, but it was too late for that. With a grunt, the Tauren turned stag pulled on her hind legs, pushing himself several inches beyond her warm vulva. She arched her neck in shock, bleated wildly, but unable to escape Theagrim's grasp. He took the nape of her neck in his teeth, holding her place, as much a threat as it was practical.
She stayed put, trembling and bleating as he penetrated her. He thrust forward until he was all the way in her, violating her young passage with his sizable cock. Tauren druid forms tended to be rather large in addition to the bull-horns they almost invariably added to the base creature. Theagrim was confident that this little doe would have liked to have run into a more representatively-sized stag first. He grinned, bleating in domination.
He wasted no more time, deciding that she was as adjusted as she would ever be, and began to rapidly thrust back and forth into her. He gripped her thin hind legs for extra purchase as he pulled her roughly back and forth onto his throbbing organ, his balls waving back and forth with each push. Soon he was pounding her relentlessly. She was helpless in his powerful grasp, able only to hold her place as best she could, feeling the vigorous efforts of her mate and the slapping of his balls as they picked up speed, hitting her squarely between the legs every time he humped her.
He picked up pace, his bleats joining hers as they echoed throughout the clearing. He felt his throbbing erection as it plunged again and again within her. She was wet and well-lubricated - the feeling was incredible. Her internal walls pulsed around him, putting gentle pressure on him. By this point, she seemed as into the experience as he was, pushing back and down against him, humping in time. She called out until her voice was ragged. Finally, with a wild and powerful thrust, Theagrim released deep within her, his warm seed rapidly filling her belly. His large testicles pulsed each time they were called upon, as wave after wave of pleasure coursed throughout his body.
The doe was faring no worse, grunting and moaning incomprehensibly as she pressed back against the great stag. Her wet passageway squeezed at him, as if trying to hold him deep within her, flexing around his penis to milk every last drop it could. When their explosive orgasms were complete, with an animal's indifference, Theagrim pulled himself off of the young doe, who was no longer a virgin. He hoped that he had given her his fawn, wanting to participate in the great life cycle in every way that he could.
She stood, crouching slightly as she quivered, moaning, the area under her tail splattered with his sticky white fluid. He ignored her at first, bending his body to clean the tip of his dwindling erection. After he had cleaned himself, he aided her, lapping gently at her folds, cleaning off the excess semen that he had regretfully been unable to keep deposited within her. He didn't like to waste. When he was done, the doe looked at him nervously, seemingly confused. He turned away from her, and she hesitated only a moment before bounding off, fully serviced.
He shifted back to his Tauren self, relaxing after his recent conquest. He smiled softly to himself and hummed to himself. He may have never slept with any Tauren cows, but he had spent plenty an hour with a warm doe, or bitch, or lioness, or bear, or plainstrider. Though most of his colleagues figured he was hopeless in the area of love, if they only knew how much experience he truly had. He was still relaxing contentedly when he spotted the strange creature. He might not even have noticed her if he weren't well trained in keeping vigilance.
It appeared to be a shadowcat, or a black panther, only it wasn't ethereal, and it also wasn't black. It was a cat all right, but with rigid blue or purple fur, surprisingly long fangs, and even longer ears. Its shoulder bore a strange fur pattern, almost too soft to notice, but lighter fur branded it with a half-circle surrounding a central dot. It had glowing green eyes, and was picking its way through the underbrush, attentively. He was surprised it hadn't yet noticed him, and he shifted forms reflexively, choosing the stealth and grace of his lion form.
He crouched, watching her from a distance, having used scent to determine her gender. It took him only a moment to determine that she too, was in heat, which wasn't all that surprising. It was spring, the season of burgeoning life. He had never seen a creature like her, before. He felt something, a strange connection, and he decided to approach her. He emerged noisily from the underbrush, watching the strange creature with unwavering fascination. Perhaps though he was not a panther, she would consent to take him as her mate. Regardless, he had to know more about this anomaly.
* * * * *
Sameyila Aimheart bounded through the forest at a breakneck pace, having taken a lupine form to commence her chase of the frightened bunny. She was hungry, and hunting was good sport. She growled, chasing the small creature as it darted through roots and into underbrush, never quite finding a place to hide. She knew she would soon taste the sweet flesh of the rabbit, crunching its bones between her teeth. But she was disappointed as it disappeared down the rabbit hole, just beyond the snap of her mighty jaws.
She stood over the rabbit hole, sorely disappointed. She briefly considered using the power of Elune to devastate the hole and reach the rabbit hiding within, but thought better of it. The chase was the chase, and the rabbit had won. Panting, the wolf relaxed, trying to regain her breath. She lay down, flicking her tail in irritation. That had been a long chase, and it smarted to have lost so near to victory.
It was spring again, and Sameyila took her traditional vacation from duties down in the Ashenvale. It was beautiful here in the spring, with blooming flowers and a vibrant sun, shimmering gently through the canopy. She found it a welcome break from her duties as a druid. She was annoyed at the stigma she encountered on a daily basis from the male Night Elves, who liked to envision themselves as the only true druids. She had been a druid for thousands of years longer than they had, unless you counted sleep.
She was born just as the male druids were summoned to the Emerald dream for 10,000 years. She had never known her father, nor any male, growing up alongside the other Night Elves, the females who were to retain vigil over the world while the males slept. Unlike her sisters who prayed under Elune, becoming priestesses, she had joined the few other female Night Elves who chose to follow the path that the hero Malfurion had chosen only years before. She had trained for thousands of years, years on the end of years, strengthening herself and her connection with nature, yet it was only the males whom were called to the Dream.
Now the males had returned, and there was only greater opportunity to improve her practice. There were so many with more or different experience than she had, and it seemed that the years of sleep had only strengthened their connection with nature and Elune. But with this knowledge came arrogance, a trait she found all to present among these returned heroes. She had not met a male, much less a male druid, who did not look down on her for her pursuit of their craft. After 10,000 years without a man, she found that no man would have her anyway.
That suited her just fine. The pompous druids didn't deserve her attentions anyway. Over the last 10,000 years, the female Night Elves had adjusted to life without men. She knew many a woman who consorted with one or more girlfriends, enjoying the pleasures of the flesh and honoring Elune with praise and exultation. She herself had experimented, but she had never been satisfied. She had always felt more at home in the wild. Of course that was why she chose the druid's path.
But she was not free from the desires of the flesh. She had discovered at a young age that she could seek the company of her animal companions, where the other Night Elves could not satisfy her. That was why she took this annual vacation - travelling to southern Ashenvale just as spring began, the season of burgeoning life. Every year she journeyed to the purple and blue cascades, finding lovers and mates amongst the wildlife to satisfy her otherwise unsatisfied need. She had coupled with an order of magnitude more than 10,000 animals in that many years, and she saw no reason to stop just because the arrogant male Night Elves had returned.
As she relaxed near the rabbit hole, her tongue lolling out of her mouth to help cool her off, she noticed a ghostpaw alpha wolf watching her with steely eyes. She smiled, knowing that he had smelled her. She was in heat, something that was trivial to manage when you controlled every aspect of your body, up to and including the shape and form. It had been almost a day since she had allowed herself to be taken, then by an Ashenvale bear. Those were fierce creatures, and sex had been exhausting, almost more like a battle than love-making. But it had been as excellent as ever.
The ghostpaw wolves were typically eager lovers, especially young ones like the one watching her. She stood, whimpering plaintively at him. He seemed surprised, which she took for inexperience. She knew vastly more about the mating habits of the ghostpaw than any living wolf - she had participated in it for millennia. She shook her white fur, fluffing out a bit as the young stud emerged from the underbrush, watching her carefully, as if afraid she would bite. She kept herself from grinning, knowing that would only frighten the young wolf even more.
She knew he would be unconcerned with her odd fur pattern, the lunar symbol on her shoulder, or her purple-tinged fur, or even her perked, incredibly long ears. The smell was the final word to the ghostpaw, and she smelled spot on. She looked beneath him, where she saw his red tip emerging quietly from his furry white sheath. If she weren't so impatient, she might have played the game a little longer, played a little hard to get, but she had gone long enough without a mate. She turned away from him, holding her tail aside, revealing her plump canine vulva to the eager pup. She looked back at him and whimpered again, a surefire sign that she was ready to mate.
His instincts took over quickly, and he mounted the Night Elf turned wolf, thrusting hopelessly between her legs, brushing against her belly - anywhere but the mark he was aiming for. She shivered, thrilling at the feel of his forelegs around her, humping against her despite his inexperience. She had been in this situation thousands of times before, and she knew exactly what to do to help the young stud. She bent her hind legs just the right amount and yipped as he penetrated her, the thin bone pushing itself forcefully within her vaginal walls.
Her tongue lolled from her mouth as she panted, yipping as the young male wolf made her his bitch. He thrust furiously once inside of her, humping as fast as he could. She could feel him widening within her, becoming more erect with every thrust. She pushed back against him, his vigorous pumping rubbing sensually against her clitoris. She closed her eyes, humping back against him as waves of pleasure wracked her body. She felt him growing inside of her, the knot at the base of his erection swelling inside of her until she felt as though he were spreading her apart. She had always liked this part of canine mating (though she was chagrined to admit that boars made by far the best lovers).
She dug her nails into the dirt as she felt him fill her completely, the knot within tying the two canines together. The feeling was overwhelming, and her body bucked wildly as she felt her climax coming as suddenly as when the young wolf had first appeared. The male wolf pounded his bitch, suddenly howling. She felt his warm fluids pouring into her, blocked from escape by his fist-sized knot. She moaned, her howl joining his as they shared an incredible orgasm. She shook uncontrollably as her internal walls clenched around the massive cock within her, milking him of all she could.
Sameyila was still humping him, pulling roughly on his embedded organ, when he lifted his leg, turning around until they were tail to tail, knotted together, sire and bitch. She panted, straining against him, and she experienced another climax just from the feel of his engorged cock within her. She could hear him whimpering as she humped against his sensitive member, squeezing and tugging on him, but she didn't care as she quivered in the throes of her sensual peak.
She smiled, panting as she remained tied to her poor stud. Short and sweet, just as she liked it.
Sadly she would have to wait the twenty minutes for him to finally go limp. Once, she had tried to shift to avoid wasting time tied to a dog, but that had proved almost disastrous. She could wait. It seemed like forever, but finally the young pup pulled out of her, yipping and fleeing, as if unsure whether his instinct had steered him correctly. Plenty of studs felt ambivalent about their first time, but she knew the call of the wild was strong.
She curled up into a ball, licking herself clean, trying to decide whether to hunt the rabbit that had escaped her, or to find her next lover. She smiled, thinking of making the rabbit her mate. She decided against it, though. Rabbits may be eager, but they didn't have the level of ferocity she liked in a partner. She decided instead to find a panther. Big cats had very sensual mating habits, and they were often her choice mate. She just wished Ashenvale had more boars...
She shifted quickly to her cat form, sporting blue and purple fur, extremely long ears, and the traditional lunar pattern on her shoulder. She made sure she was in heat, and set off, ready to face more substantial gratification than the young wolf stud could provide. She was sure it wouldn't be long before she found a willing panther male. She picked her way carefully through the underbrush, and minutes later was surprised to see a creature emerging from the bushes that she had never seen before, in 10,000 years of visiting the glade.
It looked like a lion, a creature she had seen only rarely before in her travels, from far to the south. What was it doing here? Why did it sport large horns? It was huge as well, but a lot could change in so many years. He approached her slowly, uncertainly, and she felt a strange connection with the creature. She couldn't tear her eyes off of him, hypnotized by his tawny fur and well muscled body, his tufted tail swishing slowly behind him. He may not have been a panther, but she had to know more about this strange creature. She stood her ground as he approached.
To be continued...