? ? ?, (Outer Realms)

Soaring swiftly over the foamy ridges of an eternally cresting sea, turning broadly along time-carved undulations of tree-shaded shores, the subtle tilts of rigidly spread wings directed the combined travel of a young dragon and his mate, angling into several turns over open water, further away from the relative safety of open sand. Glancing side to side at rippling orange flesh of reptilian flight surfaces, stretched between thick and visibly veined wingstems that came together near her knees, Elora allowed another moment to distractedly study Spyro's flying strength in action, granting them a form of travel far more thrilling than simply walking.

Don't need a balloon anymore, do we?

Reaching her wind-flattened digits to the scale-speckled purple flesh holding both of them steady through the air, the gleam of the faun's narrowed teal eyes remained as the love of her life she was astride craned his neck aside, eying her.

Hi hot stuff. Love how strong you are, hee.

"Elora!"

"Yes?"

"There's, um, boats up ahead!"

"Fishing boats?"

"Can't tell yet!"

Pushing herself over in a lean to the left, holding tightly onto the central strap as she teetered on her now-standing leg, perched precariously in the stirrup, her loosely done ponytail flicked wildly behind her head, spotting the sun-lit glints of three dark-colored iron vessels and their smoke plumes rising into the sky to match.

"Wouldn't they have nets if they were fishing boats?"

As if to answer her vocalized contemplation, tiny poofs of white smoke rose from the nearest vessel, and an odd dark shape began spreading in an approach, causing Elora to gape with alarm as Spyro jerked aside, and the distinct whistle of air through netting whipped past, followed shortly by the delayed crack of a cannon's report.

"That was a net!"

"Not a fishing net!"

"There's more smoke!"

Aligning her balance back onto his dorsal ridge, Elora clamped both of her palms onto the saddle amid several distinct pops of detonating powder charges, pulling herself closer to Spyro's back as he began into a hurried ascent to evade, tilting near vertical and seeking the wandering clouds above with mighty sweeps of wings. Remaining hunched as another spread of webbing and other unseen projectiles hurtled past beneath, their progression through the cool blanket of vapor washed across their senses in a fleeting dreamlike relief, thankfully veiling them from the clearly unfriendly craft floating below as they circled in a leveled spiral.

"I think they're trying to shoot us down."

"Why the hell? Do they just fire on anything that flies?"

"Maybe they do. We don't know."

"Maybe we should know!"

"That's going to be tough with three of them!"

"Then we reduce them to one boat, and then ask."

"You want to attack them?"

Eying Elora behind his shoulder again, Spyro's eyes were narrowed, having already made up his mind.

"They attacked us first. Probably will continue if we show ourselves."

"Probably. Or we could stay up high and just make some distance."

Renewing their altitude with two distinctly forceful flaps, Spyro shook his head.

"No way. They started this."

"...And knowing the pride of peace keeping dragons, backing down is never the first answer."

Showing a little fang in a grin from Elora's seep of self-reminder, the faun then eyed Spyro, not wanting to smile from his expression considering the immediate danger they were likely to face.

"And you're stuck with me, on my back."

"I know, and honestly I'm okay with exacting justice, IF they end up deserving it. "

"So you do want to sink these jerks?"

"I want to know why they're shooting at us!"

"Then let's crash their party and find out!"

Heart beating, having difficulty resisting Spyro's infectious enthusiasm, Elora pushed a sigh of resignation through her nostrils.

"Just don't get us both killed, okay?"

"Killed? That's the last thing... Nope. Just stay on me, and we'll be fine."

I know. I trust you, but... "Do you have the energy to stay in the air for however long?"

Horns turning again with a quirk of his huge eyebrows, Spyro swept his freely hanging paw through the vapor they were helixing into.

"You'll know when I don't!"

Tilting down into a steep dive straight toward the ocean, with all fur and bristles blown back fiercely from the blur of fully intended velocity, a fiendishly grinning Spyro leveled out above the surface, revealing the proper extant of their speed to both creatures. Heart racing amid the difficulty of respiration, Elora's tear-blurred vision allowed enough clarity for their low-level pass alongside the clanking vessels, now revealed to have cannon turrets and positions manned by distinctly green-and-disfigured masses.

"Gnorcs!"

"Of course!"

Curving up and over into a banking evasion, bracing her posture against lateral forces and the inexorable pull of gravity, Elora squinted as the upright armor-garbed posture and decidedly formal demeanor of dragon Conan entered her mind's eye.

"Follow the leader, and then foul the leader. Once they stop, the whole group behind has to evade, and that breaks up their formation."

"Yes!"

"What?"

"Foul the leader!"

"Huh?"

"Let's hit the boat in the lead!"

"Alright! Hit them with what?!"

"I have those special bolts!"

"Oh yeah!"

Hunching to further evade the widening mass of another net twirling through the air behind, Elora squeezed her thighs into Spyro's sides, and with arms shaking, nudged her crossbow over her shoulder, twisting the sling into a loop around her wrist.

Just bought you... "Not losing things today!"

"What?!"

"Which should I pick from the bottles?!"

"Whatever your hands find first!"

"Okay!"

Fumbling into her bag behind, freezing as the chatter of a much higher velocity projectile hurtled past, she gripped the quiver hiding within her satchel as Spyro abruptly turned opposite, tail weaving up and down behind their maneuvering. Digging into the tube of rods, finally greeted by the heft and cloth covering of one in particular, she brought the bolt out and to her mouth, clamping her teeth onto the hard and slender shaft. Retracting her hoof from the saddle stirrup, chest heaving from the danger of only having one point of contact besides her squeezing knees and planted rump, she squinted as her shank and arms pulled opposite of each other, nose puffing as her side ached, locked taught to keep herself on the saddle until her balance shifted back over.

"Mmff, shish."

Saliva streaming free of her lips as she freed the bolt from her teeth, Elora then bit and pulled on the string bound around the cloth cover, only for the loosened textile to whip free and vanish into oblivion.

Ookay. Fire, huh? We've got a bunch of that already.

Plunking the bolt onto the crossbow's barrel and butting the stock against her shoulder, trying hard to hold steady amid Spyro's flapping, she peeked down the wobbly iron sights of the weapon as they circled around vainly missing cannon blasts with regular swoops up and down.

"Can you stay level at all?!"

"That's how we get hit!"

"For just a moment!"

"I'll try!"

Keeping a leading bearing on the vessel, just beyond the glinting tube of liquid-filled glass, a short and distinct period of stable flight began, and Elora's fist tightened around the rear grip, squeezing a lever that released a strong latch that then flung a projectile onward just beyond Spyro's horn.

*KA-CHINK*

"I see it!"

Staring at the swift flight of the bottle with a full-bodied stilling, despite Spyro's resumption of errant airborne motions, the glinting rod flew straight into the side of the vessel's superstructure with a shimmer of shattering glass, but the spectacular eruption of flame expected simply did not occur, and her brow furrowed, hunching lower as Spyro banked tightly.

"Did you hit it?"

"I did but... Wait... Maybe its not the bottle that makes fire!"

"I didn't see any!"

"Because we need your fire!"

"My fire?!"

"Can you flame them?!"

"About time you ask!"

"It hit the left side, um, port?"

"Gotcha!"

Reversing course in an opposing turn, Spyro's gullet churned with an eager buildup of active glands pooling up into his cheeks. Feeling his idly hanging claws greeted by the spray of the cresting sea beneath, they tilted into a broadside heading, and Elora hunched back from the left-hand turn of Spyro's full-cheeked maw. Unleashing a narrow jet of hot and forceful flame, the crackling blast immediately grew outward and swept rapidly across the decking, enveloping most of the keel length of the iron vessel with the cushion of heat from the chemically-fueled conflagration turning Elora's head away. Deciding to twist around her opposite shoulder for an alternate view of the boat and its occupants, scurrying around from being engulfed in widespread fire, her lips parted with intention to comment on the fate of the green minions visibly suffering. Instead, abrupt flashes of shockwaves erupted outward under both cannon emplacements, preceding the mighty roar of violent detonations of powder. Now speechless, as the ship's crew that hadn't been launched into the air among panels and shrapnel decided to flee overboard, the splashing and panicked boarding of one pitiful dingy was punctuated by the visible listing of the smoking boat now steadily taking on water in its bow.

Swooping up and around, seeing the remaining two vessels of the formation immediately splitting in two, Elora breathily laughed with disbelief from the success.

"Looks like it worked!"

Seeing the strange sight of a ship's structure and its tubular funnel vanishing entirely beneath the waves, never again to glide on the surface, she stared briefly at a large area of bubbles surfacing, with the small speck of a lifeboat paddling away in a hurried flee.

"Y-Yeah, a little too well!"

"Shouldn't have shot at us!"

"Nope!"

"You should try another one!"

"Okay! I only have two of the special bolts left, and that's assuming I don't miss!"

"I think I can help with that!"

"Sure hope so-oop!"

Forcing the weapon open, only for her hoof to startlingly jerk out of the steel stirrup, she managed to return her toe to the forged ring, pulling the quartet of sprung cables back with a grunt and click of completion.

"Don't bother hoping, either way we're turning them into an underwater barbecue party!"

"Only if you can keep us in the air!"

"That's - Gah, what the hell?!"

Whirling aside to Spyro's roughly stroking wing, gaping at the clump of rope netting that was now tangled around half his wingspan, Elora's digits tightened with alarm as the dragon she was astride began to physically struggle in midair. Looking between the crossbow in her left hand, and the obstruction that very well could force them into the water beneath, she clamped the projectile weapon into the crook of her arm and patted her waist in a panic, finding her dagger on her hip and gripping the handle as tight as she could muster while pulling it out. Seeing Spyro angrily gnash back at the netting, his teeth chomping just out reach, Elora slapped his neck repeatedly.

"I'll get the rope, just... Keep flying! As best as you can!"

"Trying!"

Twisting her hooves outward in the stirrups, leaning closer to the offending rope mesh as the purple-clad beast doggedly fought to keep both of them in the air with one fiercely flailing wing, Elora cautiously brought her dagger near to his other idle and rippling limb. Beginning the first of several outward-prying cuts, severing individual strands with shaky slices, she teetered further, trusting the integrity of the sewn foothold that kept much of her bodily weight suspended over the open ocean. Managing one more round of severance, the remaining rope pulled along the forged tang in a distinct loosening, noticed by the grunting lizard who immediately shook his wing, casting the tangled obstruction off with strong shimmy and a lingering sneer.

"Yes!"

Despite Elora's cheer, the dragon elected to flap back upward in a sharp altitude gain, departing the water-level strife for cover. Disappearing into low misty clouds once more, the faun ducked low by his ear among the vapor, lips parted by nervous breathing, heart racing behind her leafy bosom.

"You alright?"

"Fine."

"Tired?"

"Mad."

Listening to Spyro's labored respiration after his short and bothered responses, as they glided in a circular orbit, she nuzzled his jawbone just beneath.

"You kept us flying."

"Yea-huh, those losers down there are all going swimming."

"I agree."

Turning his head aside, bumping her flat nose, he tilted lower, furrowed brow softening upon meeting the glint of her teal gems peeking at him.

"Ready?"

"Oh yeah."

Sheathing her dagger and clutching the saddle handle, her eyes widened as Spyro tightly rolled over into a dive, hurtling down towards the vessels that appeared below the poofy white veil. Chests thrumming with a reprise of exhilaration as they rocketed low over the open sea, Elora hunched low and looked aside as they hurtled toward the faster moving boats, squinting from wind-blown and heated air as Spyro belched a swath of broadside flame in passing. Springing up from her crouch, turning back and digging into her satchel beneath her flicking ponytail, she plucked another of the heftier bolts from the bag, and upon inspection of the bottle after freeing the cloth cover with her teeth, she squinted at the depiction of an electric arc on the adhered paper.

Hmm.

Spitting the textile away and lowering the tightly held crossbow with a shimmy, placing the ammunition onto its barrel channel, she inspected their returning approach toward the vessels in a broad turn.

"Got another one ready!"

"Cool! What is it?"

"Gonna find out!"

Darting past the the nearest boat, with the loud crack of cannon fire sending a fully-missing projectile past, Elora twisted back and hurriedly lined up the sights on the crossbow.

*KA-CHINK*

Releasing another bottle-tipped bolt back between his tail and wing, seeing flares of static discharge chase the projectile until it struck the side of the boat's hull, she exhaled from another confirmed hit.

See? Regular target practice. It shows.

"Was that electric or something?!"

"Watch!"

Circling around, cringing from a splash of water as a cannon shell obliquely ricocheted off the waves near, the cloud-strewn sky flashed, and a startling rod of jagged lightning shot down from the heavens, contacting the boat and delivering a payload of electrical discharge with a magnificent clap of unforecasted thunder.

"Whoa!"

*KA-BOOM*

Witness to the subsequent concussion erupting from the boat afterward, with powder magazines and its boiler all exploding from the tremendous shock, a wide eyed Elora and Spyro glimpsed the twirl and cascade of iron hunks and seagoing gnorcs raining through the air, splashing into the sea far from the obliterated and quickly sinking craft.

I'll have to tell Bianca these are working nicely. "One more boat!"

"Still want to talk to them?!"

"If we can get on board!"

Angling toward the third and final ship, their approach notably lacking in cannon discharges and visible crew, Spyro swooped beneath the plume of smoke, tightening into a steep decline and flapping his wings back to slow their descent. Dropping heavily onto the open deck of the small iron vessel, wood planking groaning beneath their weight, Spyro's nostrils flared with relief from finally being able to rest his wings, with Elora's weight also shrugging free from his backside. Expecting a fight, but finding no readily visible opponents, the couple glanced around with apprehension at the various inanimate components of the oceangoing craft steaming through the waves.

"Did they jump ship?"

Ears and attention coinciding on the distinct clatter of pivoting iron and meshing gears, discovering the cannon affixed to the bow was rotating back, the lowering elevation of the emplacement's barrel pointing directly at them caused the couple to begin backpedaling with fright, and Spyro thrust his arm out in front of Elora as a powder charge erupted, only to find another rapidly opening rope net blasting into both of them at point blank range. Knocking both creatures back into a noisy tumble into the superstructure behind, the presence of misshapen green sailors was then revealed as curious eyes peeked over their scattered hiding places, visible through the rope netting that the couple was now struggling to make sense of.

"Nngh, I really, REALLY, HATE these things...!"

Not entirely sure which thing was being vehemently detested by her boyfriend, Elora managed to free her dagger from her hip again, pushing it through the netting and making quick work of the heavy rope in front of herself with several jerking cuts. Finding Spyro was also hacking apart his side of the trap with his claws and teeth, the net was quickly reduced to torn strands that were thrust asunder. Fighting free of the ruined fibers and standing back onto her hooves, with Spyro's formidable presence similarly revealed, Elora openly brandished her dagger in her grasp, arm crossed and blade level in front of her bosom. Glaring icily at each of the gnorcs in turn as Spyro protectively circled around her haunches on all four paws, flame seeped from his bared-teeth snarl, popping and crackling as his claws audibly clicked along the wood decking.

"Why are you attacking us?!"

"Who told you to open fire on us?!"

Met with only the clanking of a reciprocating steam engine below, with none of the pudgy minions daring or able to answer the couple's threatening barks, Spyro growled angrily, finally causing one of the braver sailor mooks to pluck a harpoon from its adjacent rest, charging forward with an increasing wail. Freezing in front of Elora and immediately identifying the inbound target he was hoping for, Spyro lurched forward to close the distance and slapped both of his paws around the shaft of the oceanic spear, easily halting it and its user's progression, only to spin it back around and fling the hapless gnorc holding it overboard.

"Seeya!"

Turning around to face the others, now standing on his hind legs, the lavender reptile grasped both ends of the harpoon shaft and twisted it upward, snapping the fishing tool in half like a twig and chucking the useless fragments into the water behind.

"Who is giving all of you orders?!"

Grinning from Elora's sharply shouted demand, Spyro stomped menacingly nearer two of the cowering minions, discreetly glancing toward the cannon emplacement that was attempting to quietly rotate towards him.

"I mean, either way you're all going for a swim, whether you answer or not."

*BANG*

Dropping forward and flattening both of the gnorcs beneath his bodily mass, mere heartbeats beneath the discharge of a desperately fired cannon shell that struck the waters beyond, Spyro then scuttled forward to the bow turret with a burst of predatory speed, winding around the cannon's circular blast shield and grabbing hold of its user that cried in desperation, only to be flung away into the sea like its shipmate before. With the rest of the crew now storming into motion for an attempt at repulsion of the intruders onboard, Spyro leapt back down onto the planking, smashing through a stack of crates in pursuit of one gnorc that began screaming in a flight of terror. Just beside, Elora thrust her dagger in broad swipes back and forth, repeatedly forcing back one evasively dodging sailor that finally scurried away, only to be slammed by Spyro's shockingly fast and heavy tail, sprawling overboard with a squeal of pain. Turning over her shoulder with a toss of ponytail as another screaming gnorc ran toward her with a skillet raised in both arms, Elora backed against one of the dislodged crates near.

"What's with these guys and frying pans?!"

Hearing Spyro chuckle a short distance away from her outburst, Elora's arms snaked beneath the crossbow's curved lath against her back, elbows flattening on top of worn and roughly nailed wood as her leg coiled back, lips and brow tightening.

*CLANG*

Redirecting the swung cooking iron back into the face of the gnorc holding it, from a potent strike of her sturdy shank, Elora shoved upright as the stunned minion stumbled around in a circle, dropping the fire-weathered instrument and teetering over in a head-first tumble into the water. Whirling around from the plop of hurried steps nearly masked by a distant scream and splash, managing to absorb a hit from the dull wood blade of an oar, the startling slap on her shoulder forced an exhale, and she rebounded by striking the green-skinned and blue-garmented mook in the cheek with the pommel of the dagger. Seeing the rotund opponent slap his fat fingers onto his visibly pained expression, his arm then attempted to grab hold of her blade, but the quicker faun jerked it away and kneed him in his gut, revealing the presence of a knife that fell free from his tattered denim shorts, clattering onto the deck. Staring down at what was then realized to be a hidden and genuine threat in close proximity, she kicked the stubby blade away, and then kicked him overboard as well, watching as the subdued remnants of the flotilla's crew drifted away behind their ongoing heading, swimming towards the craft's lifeboat that Spyro had since tossed into the sea, upside down.

Jeez. "Is that everyone?"

"Think so. Nobody up here or... Down here."

Taking a moment to sit and recuperate, follicles laden with sweat from relieving the vessel of its crew, Elora looked on beyond the bow, realizing with a shiver they were steadily nearing a shoreline.

"Uh, Spyro?"

"Yo!"

"Can you turn this thing real quick? So we don't crash?"

"Yep!"

Clambering up into the tiny open bridge of the superstructure, the dragon hooked a single toe into the rudder wheel and nudged it aside, altering their heading back toward the open and glistening water.

"That's better."

"Hey, now that we're on this thing, lets use it for a while!"

Eying the chaos-strewn wood she sat on, and then Spyro as he clambered out of the bridge, still wearing the saddle as he grappled up onto the turret perched on top, Elora arched back in a stretch.

"Know where we're headed?"

"Not really, but we were just following the coast before all this."

"Nnng, 'kay."

Rising to her feet and cautiously padding along the gently rocking deck, arms rising and crossing in continued evaluation, Elora peeked over the stern, inspecting the wash of the propeller beneath the waves, and then flitting back to her mate, cheeks aglow with elation, finding him admiring her from his higher perch.

"Hey."

"Hi."

"You're really hot when you're kicking butt."

Humming from his honesty, flicking her bangs aside with a toss, her ear rose as she tilted her head, lashes batting.

"That's all you, hot stuff."

"Heh. Well... Still. You and that dagger... Whoof."

"Yeah?"

"Oh yeah."

Tail wiggling behind her rump with interest, she then blinked above her smile, realizing she still head the mentioned blade in her grasp. Stowing the sharp weapon, she then proceeded into the shaded superstructure, ascending narrow stairs and alighting onto the elevated vantage point of the bridge. Shrugging off her backpack onto the floor just beside, she then plopped her hands onto the wheel's shaped handles, eyebrows quirking with interest.

So, we stole a boat... After destroying two others. Stuff like this is probably why our reputation seems to precede us in some places...

Leerie Harbor, Outer Realms

Meandering into the populated eminences of an unfamiliar coastal settlement, having since left behind the warship they unceremoniously beached on a sandbar, Spyro and Elora ambled along among the activity of the animal populace, well aware of the local's eyes evaluating the distinctly different couple holding hands, with the gentler species of the duet visibly armed.

I wonder if anyone's found the boat by now.

Alighting upon the fragrant odors of an outdoor market, nodding toward the other to bookmark a possible meal for later, the upright dragon looked on down the street as Elora's head craned higher above passerby.

"There's a store."

"Where?"

"Lee-something, mercantile. Left side."

Proceeding onward along the cobblestoned corridor, with the gentle toll of a distant buoy's bell wandering across the pleasant and busy air, their held hands parted as Spyro took the lead, nudging open a whisper-quiet wooden door and bumping the tiny bell affixed with the tip of his horn. Looking around at the interior full of wooden shelving, laden with a tantalizing variety of goods and tools, Elora brushed past Spyro's side with a drag of soft fingertips, only for the dragon to proceed towards the rear of the store, brow furrowing from what the couple realized was a total absence of occupants.

"Huh."

"Hello? Anyone?"

Nearing what was discerned to be a stairwell by the back counter, attention perking from what he swore was the creak of a footstep, Spyro padded closer to the dim passage, claws tapping on the planked flooring, his focused attention not immediately receptive to the bell chime of the door opening again.

"Wha- HEY!"

Yelping as a sweep of rough fabric hastily dropped over her head, nearly causing her to lose balance as something slammed into her shoulders, Elora's backpack and crossbow were both ripped free from her arms, and the cloth obscuring her vision was yanked further down. Arms struggling as something unseen forced them together, circling a binding tightly around her wrists, Elora's stomping hooves were then swept out from underneath anyway, dropping her onto the floor beneath with a heavy thud.

"STOP! LET ME, GAH, GO!"

Whirling around from the scuffle and Elora's muffled and uncharacteristically distressed shouts, seeing the bulk and horns of rhynocs at the door, Spyro's startled confusion immediately transformed into a furious storm forward.

"Ingus, sir, we've got her!"

"ELORA!"

Abruptly tripped by a chain strung low across his path, halting his legs and sending him tumbling forward onto the floor in a slam, the green and wart-laden flails of a gnorc tumbled into a landing next to him from the force. Scurrying upright, only to be grabbed by the outward snatch of Spyro's claws, the goblin's face contorted with terror from Spyro's baring teeth, seething with smoke from his nostrils.

"Wow, sure hit the jackpot on your ugly butts today!"

Forcing himself upright and swinging the squealing gnorc by its own leg, crashing into a display shelf above and scattering numerous wares, several other gnorcs rose from the checkout counter with clubs in hand, one with a shackle and chain, and Spyro rose fully onto his hind legs, claws readily spread, stomping towards the green mooks that scrambled over the counter in various directions. Stopping the inbound swing of the closest gnorc's club, he swung the wide-eyed creature up into the roof, and then back down onto the store counter. Turning and slamming another with his tail, knocking a freestanding shelf aside and spilling its contents onto the floor, Spyro then stared down the chain-wielding gnorc, recognizing the metal clamp on its still end as a muzzle. Stomping closer, dragging the still-held minion face-first along the counter, Spyro flung the flailing creature forward into the wall beyond, and with a wince as the chain swung outward, thrust his forelimb out, catching the chain in a spiral around his cladded muscle. Clamping his paw around the length of the iron links, grinning toothily as the gnorc realized he now held the short end of the situation, he yanked the remainder out of its grasp, glancing down and stomping onto the iron muzzle with his foot and promptly flattening the hinged contraption. Lifting the hunk of useless metal up, swinging it around and striking one of the mooks behind, Spyro then whirled the chain into the now-fleeing gnorc, violently flaying it and sending it tumbling with a cry of visceral pain.

Looking over his shoulder, growling as the remainder of gnorcs appeared to be rising back to their feet, apparently intent on continuing to fight, a further turn to a now-empty doorway sent a wash of realization across his conscious, with a subdued Elora and the witnessed rhynocs having since disappeared amid his combat. Grimacing with a spike of heartbeat, the reptile's bosom filled with a mighty intake of oxygenated breath, and with a circular whirl, he began unleashing a torrent of flame in all directions. Igniting a variety of scattered product and clothing with ease, the gathering of battered gnorcs began squealing and fleeing in various directions, several on fire and one jumping out of an adjacent window with a shatter. Finding one running directly into him in the flaming confusion, Spyro thrust his clawed paw onto the gnorc's gullet and slammed it onto the floor.

"WHO DO YOU SERVE?!"

Met with no answer beside the fearful struggles of the fat minion beneath his weight and roar, realizing again that he was still distracted by hapless opponents, Spyro belched another blast of fire up at the wood ceiling of the store, setting the structure itself further alight. Charging aside through the flames, blasting out of the open door and not bothering to look back at the actively burning structure, the lavender beast seethed with energized fury, galloping through the curious and swiftly parting populace on all four legs.

"ELORA!"

Outwardly screaming amid his frightful charge through the harbor's thoroughfare, nearing the stonework of the dock lined with small boats, the puttering of a vehicle's engine drew his attention skyward, seeing a helicopter-like contraption rising into the sky, with one of the prior Rhynocs leaning out of an open door on its side.

"Ohhhh-hoh, is that so?!"

Charging forward and launching up into the air, wings flapping deftly in a steady gain of altitude, Spyro oriented towards the aircraft in pursuit, easily gaining on the sputtering and somehow-airworthy contraption. Glimpsing the still struggling sack within, behind the bulk of the Rhynoc just aft of the pilot, his mouth curled into a reappearing snarl, but just as he banked his wings into an approach, the distinct crack of a firearm sent a projectile whistling past his horn. Immediately diving lower in evasion, paws clenching, Spyro flapped up behind the exhaust trail of the craft, managing to stay behind the whirling propeller affixed to its rear stabilizer.

Can't flame or blow this thing up... She's right there in it! How do... I...

Elevating with a strong flap upward, seeing the mass of a giant boat floating in the air in the distance ahead, his heart raced from the strange sight.

...The hell is that?

Pacing the machine with regular swoops up and down, fuming with anger at the situation, the whirlybird craft abruptly turned after a series of echoing booms, and with a glimpse at the trails of smoke drifting away from the turning air-ship, Spyro suddenly realized a number of spreading silhouettes of nets were inbound, directly at him.

"H-oohhh what?!"

Attempting to dodge mid-flap, receiving a face full of interlaced cable and another around his left legs, folding his wing, the netting's hooked weights whirled around his body, and with a sudden immobilization, ensured his following plummet out the sky. Thrashing for freedom amid the shocking restraint, Spyro then crashed into shallow water with a great splash, his senses blasted by the sudden submersion. Jaw prying apart, releasing a cloud of bubbles with a slow regaining of bearings, he began pushing awkwardly towards the shore with his two right legs, breaching the surface and finally dropping to a rest on dryer sands of the shoreline.

Damn, this, net, is really tough!

Thrashing at the wire netting, and then biting at it repeatedly, trying to tear it with furious pulls of his teeth, his free forelimb outside of the mesh grabbed the netting and pulled on it with several desperate heaves. Finding his effort entirely unsuccessful, his paw curled into a fist and beat into the soggy sand repeatedly, slumping onto the beach, waves lapping at his disposition. Breathing heavily, glimpsing through the steel-cable netting at the aircraft landing on the ship in the distance, the larger craft continued to steam onward, drifting further away between two mountains above the water.

Elora... "Elora!"

Eyelids pooling with stinging tears, his maw parted, unleashing a heartbroken howling roar into the air, sending numerous birds fleeing from trees in the area.

How. How did this happen, and who...

Sifting through portraits of various defeated enemies in his memory, his labored breathing continued in a fervor, and his teeth clamped around the mesh, yanking it back with a pull.

This isn't rope, or... Even if she had her knife... No. She wouldn't have done well with that fall anyway.

His eyes shut in a squeeze, chest throbbing, and sorrow he tried to avoid producing around his elders, dribbled along his cheekbones.

I can't... You can't be taken this easily. Not my treasure... My love, and everything, I...

Eyes reopening into a dark furrow, staring at the thin cable in front of himself, old memories of blacksmithing with Ragnar filtered in among the storm clouds, seeing metal reduced to glowing liquid with enough flame-driven heat.

...I won't let them. I won't let anyone. You won't stop me. This net won't stop me... "Nothing will stop me! NOTHING!"

Throat percolating with volcanic fury, he looked down at the crossing mesh laying on the sand. Chin sinking closer to his throat, cheeks filling with glands of ignition, he unleashed an eruption of flame, seeing the gaseous outburst blast onto the grit and iron beneath. Bottling up and blasting another torrent of flame in a small concentration, inhaling and channeling another between his funneling maw, he stared intently at the flexible lattice that began to glow with embers between his expulsions. Body surging and tail slapping into the shallow waves behind, continuing the repeating output of flame breath, he winced as the glands in his chest began aching, only to stare at the bright orange circle of superheated metal, with clumps of silica cauterizing and fusing to the cables with thin wisps of smoke. Thrusting his free paw beneath his head, claws hooking into the hot mesh, he tore the netting open with a shaking heave of arm muscle. Thrusting his left arm forward with a wriggle, finding the new orifice, both of his paws returned in a deft clamping, folding and crushing broken cable in his grasp, and with a simultaneous pull, the netting began to steadily fail, wire popping apart with jerks from brute strength.

Whoever... You... Jerks... Are... I will tear you apart. Limb, from, LIMB!

Forcing his captive leg outward, violently snapping the remainder of the metal mesh apart, Spyro successively fought free from the tangled mess, thrusting up onto all fours. After an inspection of his wingspan's flesh, he then stared darkly at the silhouetted airship on the orange-hued horizon, thin plumes of smoke drifting from its smokestacks. Sauntering along the sand in a full-throttle dash, he dove aside into the water, orienting into a pursuant heading and sending schools of fish scattering from his frenzied swimming.

You may have shot me down... But as long as you are up there in the air...

Breathing in controlled intakes of underwater oxygen, Spyro's expression remained cast in a wrathful scowl.

You're dead. Dead, dead, going to all be dead. Taking my babe, so rudely, you are about to find out what its like to be DEAD.

*WHAM*

*WHAM*

*WHAM*

Repeatedly thrusting both of her hooves into the door producing the only hints of light, arms and knees fully bound, Elora lay on the floor of a dark and creaky room, denuded of all belongings besides the leaf garment on her fur.

*WHAM*

Blinking in a start as the door swung open, visibly scarred by her hoof strikes, a pudgy green being appeared in the blast of colors from an evening sunset. Shaking his fist angrily and grunting at her, Elora's legs curled back, kicking the creature in its belly and punting it backwards out of the doorway with a tumble and clatter of unseen objects.

"AM I BEING TOO LOUD?"

"Quite a bit, actually."

Brow furrowing from the entrance of a composed voice into the dark room, Elora stared at the shaded profile of another creature approaching in the doorway, stopping short of her hooves swiping near, with a glinting object in its grasp. Discerning the straight folds of processed clothing draped along his limbs with cuffed sleeves and shiny buttons, she then stared at the familiar facial features and confident expression, suddenly finding a match to an individual further back in memory.

"You?!"

"Me."

"You're that troll from that bar months ago!"

"Could be. You're rather aggressive for a woodland goat."

Sneering from the label, her nose wrinkled beneath a furrow, moreso upon realization that her dagger was the item in his grasp.

"Yeah? You're lucky I don't have horns."

"Perhaps."

"Where are you taking me?"

Realizing he simply declined to answer, looking over the blade still, Elora slammed her hooves into the floor.

"WHERE ARE YOU TAKING ME?"

Chuckling, the nameless silhouette stabbed the knife into wood planking to his right.

"Somewhere."

Staring at him, chest huffing as he pulled the knife back out with a jerk, she turned over onto her other shoulder with a wiggle.

That's mine. Stop making it dull!

"Nice blade, by the way. What's the E stand for?"

Looking up and away into the dim light behind, Elora grunted.

"I answered you, faun."

"Thought I was a goat."

"Either or. Honestly I'm surprised it doesn't have a D on it... Dragon girl."

Laying still, wincing as the door firmly shut and a bolt locked, Elora lay still in the dark hold, cheek and ear spreading onto the musty and scarred planking beneath.

Spyro... I know you're out there... And I'm sorry for letting my guard down back there. Now I'm here on this boat, and...

Knees nearing her stomach in a curl, lamenting the absence of her belongings, her heart throbbed, having not seen her companion's expression since a mere moment before being blinded by fabric.

...I'm sure you're mad. You can be mad at me if you want to be. This is the sort of trouble that happens from being unaware of your surroundings.

Stretching, vainly pulling at the thick straps on her wrists behind her back, she sighed with reluctance.

Now I'm hostage, going who knows where... But as soon as I get the chance, there's gonna be a nasty fight on board this thing.

Picturing the green creature sent tumbling across the deck by her hooves, she grunted.

Once Spyro figures out where I am... Can only imagine the terror of whoever gets in his way.

Humming, closing her eyes, she allowed a smile to push onto her lips despite the situation.

Whoever you jerks are... Taking me... You all have pissed off the most determined dragon boyfriend on this side of the realms.

Tearing the tail off of a fish caught amid his unrelenting pursuit beneath the waves, Spyro then shoved the forward half of the ichthyoid into his mouth, mashing the prey within his teeth in machine-like consumption, caring naught for the fragments and entrails of its innards that escaped his boiling swallow. Turning to the slope of rock and earth beside in the dark vacuum and breaching the surface, limbs clamoring for and clutching onto soil and roots, the reptilian beast hoisted himself out of the water and flicked water away from his wings in separate sweeps. Looking up to the silhouette of the airship adrift through the air above, now traveling beneath the darkness of dusk, Spyro climbed aside along the earthen ridge, clambering up and vanishing into the shadows of a grove of trees. Following the shoreline, repeatedly peeking out from the cover and staring at the hissing and clanking vessel maintaining altitude above, his wings tucked flat against his hide, and he began into a steady tromp through trunks, easily plowing through numerous lesser branches.

That thing is noisy up close... I doubt they hear me.

Reaching the curvature of an inlet, turning the geography and groundcover away from the heading of the vessel, Spyro peered closer at the great machine, noticing several possible perches, of girders and fixtures jutting from the pointed ridge of its keel.

Think its time to hitch a ride, actually!

Wings spreading outward, launching forward into open air, he banked toward the vessel, keeping low to the water, and then turning straight up beneath it, wings flapping, and front legs outstretched and ready for any available thing to grasp. Finding the rear of the boat approaching, he twisted around and latched onto one of several girders supporting a thick spinning driveshaft, and a tall and thin rudder surface. Heaving up and onto the tubular trussing of steel encasing the shaft, looking around for any possible observation posts, he peeked above himself from several footsteps, spotting the decorative ironwork of a railing on a platform just above.

Oh, heh, wow. Right up there, huh?

Lowering to a seat, keeping his wings and tail close, his claws curled around the riveted angles beneath, bristles tossing from passing airflow.

Elora... I know you're on here. Wherever we are going... I'm about to be there too. Just hang in there... Sweet treasure of mine.

Staring at the sheer stonework of cliffside fortifications, encompassing the exterior defense of what appeared to be a small castle, Spyro inspected the rigid lantern-lit facets of the structure that the great vessel was slowly approaching, realizing the presence of cannon emplacements mounted onto the castle's corner towers. With the shouts of several crew creatures above, a number of ropes were thrown toward the occupants milling about on wooden decking of a precariously perched dock. Clambering further along the girder of the vessel's rear fixtures, witnessing the subsequent lowering of a gangway after the tying of rope to bollards, a number of figures hustled back and forth across the lowered bridge, and Spyro's heart beat with vigor as a cloth-covered figure was led across the gangway to the castle.

That has to be her.

Teeth clenching, impatiently waiting for a lull in heard footfall and activity, Spyro then leapt free from his perch, descending into the shadow of the ship and swooping beneath the keel toward the far corner of the castle wall. Latching onto a drainage pipe and its narrow supporting shelf, shaded from the rising moonlight by the great craft, the dragon began climbing up the rough barrier with determined hooks of his claws, working up to the square-cut battlements lining the rim of the sheer wall. Grasping the top edge, claws scraping in a tightening of his grasp as his lower paws clambered up, the startling appearance of a curious individual appeared in an outward lean, and after a moment of eye contact, the guard was grabbed and pulled over the edge with a muffled grunt, freely falling and bouncing off the lower slope of the wall, tumbling into the water far below. Hoisting his arms fully over the edge, peeking his head up and over as well, another guard halted his marching pace, gasped with a genuine startle from the horned beast opening its mouth, and was then blasted back by a column of hot, lethal fire.

Scrambling fully onto the top of the castle wall, looking around from shouts of creatures near that he had likely alerted, he remained low on all four paws and galloped toward the nearer cannon-topped tower, lowering his horns in a ready charge and smashing through the timber. Looking around at various stores of munitions piled along the curved interior, all resting on wooden decking, his brow quirked from the rattle of rotation above, and he elected to belch flame at the flammable wares, hustling down the keep's internal stairwell as the interior just above quickly spread alight. Smashing out of the bottom doorway with another headbutt, his presence was fully announced to any and all mooks milling about the castle's interior courtyard as something within the tower behind exploded, blasting large flames out of its open orifices. Grinning from the magnificent variety of startled expressions near and far, of both gnorc and rhynoc, Spyro then grasped the thick wood door he had previously knocked flat, heaving it towards a group of seated minions, with all but one scattering from their meal table that was abruptly flattened by the much heavier object. Belching another blast of flame in a broad sweep, setting grass and supplies ablaze in the courtyard, a number of shouts and cries for armaments began, and Spyro spread his limbs in a open-clawed hunch, exhilarated by the fleeing of fodder and established enemies alike.

Hearing a cannon turret discharge further across the steadily abandoned open space, pouncing aside and evading a shell that ricocheted off the paved stone beneath, the projectile struck the already burning tower behind and wiped out the middle, forcing the structure to collapse inward with a tumble of stone blocks and snapping timber.

"Hah! Good one!"

Laughing outwardly from the friendly fire, the purple dragon then rocketed forward between several burning piles of goods, leaping mightily and clambering back onto the wall, scuttling low and fast along the straight stone perimeter towards the emplacement that had fired at him moments before. Whipping past the frantically turning barrel of the turret, Spyro then clamped his maw onto the operator's shoulder in a crushing bite and whirled them away into the steep valley beyond. Turning aside from the hurried approach of another enemy scurrying along the moon-lit elevation, Spyro simply spat another jet of fire along the length of the wall, barbecuing the approaching being that collapsed into black dust around a rising and fleeing spirit particle.

You're toast.

Looking down at the circular cannon turret beneath, of a now-familiar design, the clank of iron armor pulled his attention aside, finding a sword-armed mook waddling closer. Aggressively sweeping its weapon back and forth, Spyro simply turned around as it neared, slapping the opponent away with the meat of his tail and sending them tumbling onto the courtyard below with a clatter of iron and crunching wood.

Anyway... Now that we're on this thing...!

Spinning the cannon turret around and slapping his paw onto the trigger foot paddle, a smokey blast ring left the muzzle, and the discharged shell hurtled directly into another corner keep. Detonating the store of explosives and powder inside and obliterating the structure in a fireball, a shower of stone bricks flew asunder and pelted unfortunate bystanders as the cannon emplacement once perched atop the keep heavily tumbled onto the cascading debris below.

BOOM! Gotta love using the ol' cannons against their owners!

Turning the cannon aside toward the central structure of the castle, shoving the barrel lower and and slapping his foot down, another shell blasted forth and hurtled into the main entrance, reducing twin iron-braced doors in a splinter-laden cloud of dust and tumbling wood beams. Heaving aside from the emplacement as thrown stone bricks and sling-shot rocks began bouncing around his position, Spyro snickered as a frying pan spun past in a complete miss. Jumping free from the wall, kicking the cannon barrel away into a spin with his rear paw and flying into a hasty curve, he looked down and unleashed a torrent of flame onto the panicked scurrying of vainly pursuant grunts, flinging and launching various blunt objects and pointed projectiles at him from beneath, only to fall victim to the flying terror's horrific expulsions of hellfire.

"NOT SO LITTLE NOW, AM I?!"

Seated against rough and dank stone brick, now resident to the furthest-in cell of a dungeon, Elora sat with eyes closed, faced by her captor that seemed noticeably interested in her crossbow, despite the muffled cries of bedlam and echoes of complete and utter havoc ensuing outside. Lamenting that she couldn't actually see the chaos being wrought, her ears remained perked from cannon discharges and crackling roars of flame, screams of terror and despair, and clatters of metal and collapsing stone.

"You sound like you're being invaded."

"Regrettably, you may be correct."

Trying not to smile, Elora's eye peeped open.

"...Probably should do something about it."

"I have many able creatures capable of handling an incursion."

Looking further along the dungeon as a passing chortle of distinct and beastly laughter echoed in through tiny barred windows, followed by an echoing outburst of vocalized superiority, Elora shook in a giggle, immediately eliciting a sneer from her captor.

"That's your damned dragon, isn't it?"

Chin rising, tail wiggling from glorious sounds now identified as her lover's unseen rampage, Elora's teeth pressed into her bottom lip in a grin.

"I don't know. Maybe you should go out there and find out."

Teeth gritting from the faun's goad, the troll stood to his feet, plucking an arrow from her quiver laying near, and pulling it into the front of the weapon's slide.

"Maybe I should kill you for the trouble... The dragon is here after all. You're just his bait."

Smile vanishing from the immediate change of circumstance, Elora's heart began hammering as the figure stepped into the forward ring of the weapon, pulling the arrow back until the cables locked.

Just... "Bait?"

"Obviously. That dragon you've been gallivanting around on has been a nuisance. Frankly, you are too, trader girl... Pfft. You two pretend to be some kind of mercenaries, and pass it off as wandering traders. Its idiotic."

"Oof. You're a judgmental prick, huh? I don't even know your name, and, actually, I don't want to anyway."

Swallowing as her own weapon rose, loaded, the figure turned toward her, hands finding places around the grips of the ranged weapon as his eyes rolled up into a smile.

"In that case, as the last creature you will ever meet, allow me to introduce myself. My name is Ingus."

Hunching in a start as the iron door behind slammed into the floor among a clatter of broken stone bricks, blowing out all torches within the room, the merciless tromp of heavy footfall echoed into the chamber, claws clicking onto the dark floor, and then silencing. After the curtain of disturbed air and dust settled, one far and lonely torch regained a bloom of ignition, spreading a weak glow into the hollow chamber, and Ingus' silhouette turned, crossbow leveled towards the dark passage ahead as odorous breath emitted somewhere eerily close.

"DRAGON?"

Leaning forward after his commanding shout, peering into the gloom, he managed a step forward, only to gag as a ring of large claws forcefully clamped around his neck, squeezing tighter until he dropped the weapon to the floor, his warted hands instead choosing to pull at whatever was choking him. Suddenly thrust further forward onto the dingy cobblestone below, with a large limb pinning his body, the troll shakily twisted his head around, finding the curling snarl of scaled flesh revealing the glints of numerous pointed teeth, that then turned upward into a smirk around them.

"My name, is Spyro."

Clamping his claws around his thrashing legs instead, dragging him along the floor and bouncing him against the iron bars of other cells repeatedly in passing, Ingus vainly grabbed hold of the fallen door, only to release from the overwhelming strength of his beastly captor that towed him out of the dungeon. Looking desperately at Elora for a fleeting moment, the unmoving faun simply observed his helpless drag away and out of sight to his fate.

Looking on, mouth parted in both relief and awe from Spyro's appearance, strength, and apparent stealth, her ears then perked from the return of her mate's voice, booming in echo.

"YOU. You took my most precious, dearest being in my heart, and shot me out of the sky... And, what, you thought you could just go on your merry way, yeah?"

Answered with a howl of anguish, nearly obscuring the grotesque tearing of flesh heard and a splatter to follow, Elora sat still, staring through the iron bars of her cell at the distant doorway.

"Just go and piss off a dragon, that's just doing his thing with his babe, yeah?!"

Exhaling from the violent removal of another limb, that was then cast aside onto the floor unseen after a cry of mortal suffering, a bloom of light began, with crackles of flame echoing.

"Hasn't anyone ever told you... Never, EVER, steal a dragon's treasure!"

Squinting as the far corridor illuminated into a bright orange flare, sourced from a hate-filled belch of fire that briefly silhouetted Spyro's wing along the wall's dark brick, a much softer glow of white illumination then bloomed and faded, followed by the slaps of heavy feet accelerating into a hasty return.

"Asshole."

Rounding the corner of the dungeon, wingtips dragging along the arches of the interior, Spyro lowered to all four legs, eyes widening in a gleam from the sight of Elora seated within, thankfully breathing and increasingly grinning from his approach. Springing up and gripping the cell door, ripping the latticed ironwork out of the stone brick and loudly dropping the object aside, Spyro sank over his beloved mate, chests huffing beneath their reunited gaze. Easily tearing apart her leg bindings with his claw points, Elora found her footing and surged up into him, waiting as his sturdy arms encircled her shoulders, freeing her wrists from the cable and allowing them to fly forward into a ready embrace.

"Spyro!" Ohh, my big, deadly, sexy love...

"Elora."

Drinking in his heartfelt exhale of her name, a whimper of elation seeped from her throat as they squeezed tighter. Stepping back a long moment later, inspecting each other as she rubbed her wrists, Spyro plucked her crossbow from the floor, taking out the arrow loaded.

"Spyro, I know you're probably mad at me, and I'm sorry for being careless and making you come all the way out here, and do all this to rescue... Me..."

Blinking from the outward plead of an unexpected apology, the plum dragon stilled, seeing Elora look away to her shoulder, ears drooping.

"Huh? What? Mad at you? Never. Maybe at all these guys, but they're all pretty much toast now. I'm just glad you're alright."

Peeking up at the reptile with doe eyes as he offered her crossbow to her with a lengthening forelimb, Elora's leg hid behind the other.

"You are alright, yeah?"

"I'm alright." I just... Ohh... I guess if you're not mad...

Padding closer to Elora again after observing her ashamed motions, Spyro scooped her into a huge standing hug, still holding her crossbow as he twisted left and right, claws sinking into her locks and gently pulling through her hair. Unable to resist a murmuring grin squishing onto her cheeks, her hands curled onto his broad shoulders from behind, squeezing him with her knuckles as his toe tips combed across her scalp in comforting drags.

Boyfriend...

"We're getting out of here pronto. But first... That stupid ship outside is going down."

Releasing from their shared embrace, taking hold of the crossbow and slipping it around her shoulder by its sling, she then lifted her backpack into her grasp, peeking inside the top flap, and sighing with relief from the presence of her dagger and other valued belongings still remaining within.

"Got everything?"

Shoving in the quiver and its clattering contents, she then pried the flap open in several directions of additional inspection.

"Looks like it."

"'Kay. Let's roll."

Hurrying together out of the dungeon and up the length of a curving stairwell, increasingly strewn with broken timber and stone blocks at the top, the jagged orifice of a cannon-blasted doorway appeared on the right, illuminated by still-active flames beyond. Following Spyro to the opening, waiting as he peeked outside, he then offered his paw to her, leading her by hand out into the night sky. Looking over the charred and debris strewn courtyard, with several damaged segments of the walls bracketing the crumpled remains of guard towers, her attention whirled across the portrait of destruction, to the creature responsible as he released her digits, patting his back with the same paw.

"Got the saddle thing?"

"Y-Yes, here."

Yanking the curled leather out of the backpack's interior and handing it over, Spyro dutifully pushed his arms through its loops, lowering his stance and managing to pull the buckled straps together around his belly.

You did do all of this... Didn't you? Smashed everything in your way... To get to me.

Heart beating, hurrying forward and clambering over his tail onto his backside, hands strongly gripping the middle handle, her hooves pushed into strap stirrups on the sides, and Spyro arched back and heaved into the air, carrying what Elora then realized was a sizable beam of metal in his grasp below as his wings flapped with determination.

Dang. That can't be light, and he just...

Smiling from another display of passion-fueled strength as they gained altitude, orbiting around the moored airship parked beside the undamaged decking along the castle wall, Spyro slowed into a bobbing hover, and Elora looked down at the blur of a large propeller, on the top end of a long and slender vertical driveshaft.

"These losers took you away on this ship, so we're gonna take the ship away from them!"

"Okay!"

Heaving the thick length of iron directly into the propeller, immediately severing several blades and flinging spinning fragments of the failing structure away to the water below, the shaft twisted and collapsed from the torque of an abrupt halt, crumpling onto the deck. Rising in retreat with thrusts of an easier hover, both Spyro and Elora watched with contempt as several remaining individuals onboard began hollering and waving frantically, and the ship began listing through the air. Nudging into the stone wall, and then turning around it, the bulk of the airship's keel swept into the wooden decking and crushed it entirely, beginning a cascade of snapping and tumbling debris and accelerating the ship's tilt into a capsizing drag along the damaged wall it then swept into. Finally rolling fully over, the other three propeller shafts disintegrated upon collision with the castle's central structure, and a great whoosh of steam expanded from boilers rupturing within the superstructure, dousing the area as the ship settled to a crushing rest. Then, as if to counter the cloud of hissing water vapor, an eruption of flame began and immediately grew, igniting the craft's wood and onboard fuel, further accentuated by the detonations of various stores of explosives and fuel on board.

Admiring his handiwork, of widespread obliteration strewn across the top of the castle, Spyro then turned aside toward the night's large moon opposite, neck twisting in a further glance back to his mate astride.

"We're outta here!"

"Yes please!"

"Hold onto something!"

Hands tightening around the pad's middle grip, Elora's eyes squinted, heart thrumming with returning excitement as Spyro angled down into a near-vertical dive toward the water below, resting his flapping wings for a mere moment of swift acceleration, and then spreading them into a glide. Arcing down parallel to the water's surface with high speed, the beast chuckled, moreso as Elora crept forward, nuzzling his bumpy nape with eyes closed from the airflow.

Can't believe... You just assaulted an entire castle... And my butt was stuck in a cell. If they hadn't tied me up, I wouldn't... I don't know... Maybe I wouldn't be here, with you... Flying free again.

Surrounding his neck with her arms, just forward of his shoulders and flapping wingstems, she sighed.

Can't believe I got captured... Not letting that happen again. Not being careless, and not going a moment without us watching each other's backs. Especially in a town we've never been to.

Reaching down low, feeling mist on her fingers from their water-level velocity, a smile crept onto her lips.

People actually think we're mercenaries, huh? Maybe if people would stop trying to steal my stuff... We wouldn't have to fight back. We aren't soldiers. Just traders, and a happy couple, busy exploring other worlds. Sure we armed ourselves for our protection, but, that only happened because there's shady creatures everywhere trying to mess with us. Mess with a dragon too. That's been unwise for millennia, and yet...

Peeking back to her crossbow on her shoulder, her hair blown back into view, she grunted, one eye squinting toward the distant glow of flames decorating the top of the silhouetted coastal castle.

...Those morons back there still went ahead and found out the hard way. Kidnapping a dragon's love in front of him... Really bad idea. Made Spyro become the sort of nightmare that people of olden days used to fear. Now I've seen what he's really capable of. He's not even as big as dragons can be either, but that can't make him any less scary to our enemies once they've pissed him off.

Picturing Spyro's silent appearance behind her unsuspecting captor, bared teeth and narrow eyes gleaming with predatory intent along his silhouetted flank, her bosom deflated in a seep of wind-swept breath.

Honestly, if people didn't make dragons mad, they probably wouldn't attack them and destroy all of their stuff... And then go and literally tear them apart.

Eyelid closing, listening to the flap of his wings among the swirl of passing airflow, Elora squished her cheek into his scales, chin nudging into the stiff curvature of his shoulder.

You reap what you sow, right? Vengeance brought, signed, and delivered... Hopefully that mess back there sends a nice and clear message.

? ? ?, (Outer Realms)

Gazing lazily into an innocent and unfamiliar morning sky, with fast-moving wisps of moisture swirling between prominent peaks bordering a color-speckled alpine meadow, Elora lay on her backside without any gear worn, legs crossed and spread into tall and lush grasses. Ears perking from the lackadaisical tromp of quadruped footfall, pushing through the verdant and breeze-dancing foliage, she peeked down as the distinct golden points of horns appeared, and with an elbow push upright on the flat leather of the saddle pad-turned-blanket, she found Spyro paused in front of her hooves, holding a paw full of uprooted flowers gathered in his earlier wanders.

Ooh! "Hey, you."

Legs withdrawing and folding, arms keeping herself perched upright, the faun's heart thrummed with patient elation as her mate carefully stepped nearer, seating himself on the edge of his saddle, and then offering her the clump of flowers in his grasp.

"Got these, for you."

"Aww. They're lovely."

"Like you."

Fluttering from his simple and honest speech, she gingerly accepted the bouquet, and with a peek toward his breeze-brushed crest, a cheeky smile curled into view. Placing several of the shorter-stemmed flowers into his bristles, she hummed with delight as his large purple irides followed her arm's motions, tail weaving through the lush green behind.

"So handsome."

"With flowers?"

"Always."

Grunting, smiling, and then reaching to the remainder of the bouquet in her grasp, Spyro managed to grasp one single flower between his digits, sidling around and carefully sliding the length of the stalk between her bosom, allowing the flower buds to settle to rest on the fringe of her leafy garment. Looking down and sampling the flower's pleasant hint of vitality, she then shuffled forward with a rise onto her upper knees, flopping bodily into Spyro and nuzzling up beneath his neck with a giggle.

Even with you being bigger now... You're still a total cutie.

Bosom deflating with a seep of relaxation as his chin sank onto her shoulder, their faces nuzzled more, exchanging delicate pushes and sniffs of the other's scent.

"Love you."

Ear turning from the genuine masculine melody resonating into it, Elora bumped her pale cheekbone into the broad and textured ridge of his, hair nestling into his horn just above as her mouth neared his ear.

"I love you."

After that whole kidnap and rescue debacle... Sorta taking some time off from trading. Probably best to be far away from the locals in this world for now... I'm sure every town along the coast there is terrorized from that castle being wiped out.

Imagining the chaos and destruction of the stronghold, compounded more by the slow crashing of a large airship into it, she peeked down beyond the soft and fragrant petals perched on her breast, to Spyro's claws spread harmlessly into the grass beneath.

Seeing what my dragon here is capable of, on his own... Anyone that does bother us, or steal from us, or kidnap us, is absolutely toast.