Dragon(s)layer

9


Tastes like Purple


The temple looked smaller from the outside, as time and reclamation by nature had assured that most of its treasures had remained hidden.

After the initial (albeit violent) greetings, Ignitia was quick to guide Spyra through as many steps of the past as time would allow, the Fallen trailing always not far behind, and likewise always under the watch of the distrustful Captain.

Harad hadn't been pleased at all to witness one of his soldiers- even one as unique as Corrinthol –bested twice in a row by the mysteriously appearing human.

"What ridiculousness." He had chided. "You're telling me that thing fell out of the sky? There's nothing up there but clouds. Dragons have flown the highest they can, and we've determined where the world ends. I can't believe that this Fallen has simply appeared, with the obvious and very dangerous skills he has acquired, and that that is our answer. It's madness! What if he is in league with the enemy?"

"Where do you think I got all my new toys from? The Apes obviously had a donation bin set up in the swamps, I know." The Fallen grinned. "We're wasting time."

"The Fallen's right! He's here now and he's the best we got." Spyra smirked. "What we really need to figure out is; how do we drive out Cynder and her Ape army from a position they've been fortifying for years, and do so quickly?"

Harad had laughed bitterly.

"Wingleader Ignitia, you cannot seriously be considering these ideas, ones born from a child, and a trained killer who has manipulated her." Harad snorted. "The human should be restrained, and both forcibly removed to Warfang's dungeons for the consideration of the Dragon Council. Our laws demand it!"

"I fear that even if I resigned to attempting such a thing, that our guest would prove beyond your capabilities to simply subdue, Captain." Ignitia glanced tiredly at the Fallen.

"See that? It's always the women who are smarter." The Fallen elbowed Morinth, making her blush. "The only thing more valuable than fresh poon is battlefield intelligence. For our little situation here, it's pure gold. If what you all describe is true, then the Dark Army is headquartered in a heavily defended, prepared position."

"It is the Forlorn Watch." Ignitia sighed. "The ancient tower first erected by settlers passing from Stormwatch over the Frontier Sea. It commands a complete view over the Forbidden Funguswood and the surrounding landscape. When loyalist forces still consistently scouted the swamps, they reported that the Apes had set up a war factory inside the old tower's guts. It is from there that Cynder reinforces, stages and equips her Ape legions."

"You people stopped scouting?" The Fallen asked. "This war cannot be going as badly as that makes it sound. Without a pathfinding corps, how would you be able to tell the movements along several fronts?"

"Manpower demanded soldiers be drawn to Daragon and the woodlands ringing the Valley of Avalar." Harad snorted. "The swamps had long been lost to the Dark Army. Sending scouts in was considered suicidal. Even these trips that Wingleader Ignitia has bravely mounted to recollect the Dragon Temple's records, have been forced and extremely dangerous. This is the most men we've been able to slip in at one time in months."

"And now Malefora has initiated another invasion of the Daragon Coast." Ignitia shook her head. "Grublin and Orc armies are sailing across the Ancient Sea and besieging the Realm of Vines. Queen Lillith is our only hold there, and I've heard from the officer ranks that Oversight is preparing to fall. The siege has turned into a bloodbath. A few weeks ago, my great friends, and the Guardians of Electricity and Ice, Volteera and Cyrila journeyed to help the defenders in their cause. I have heard no word from them as to what has transpired."

"These things require the strength of stone." Harad boasted, holding out his claw, where a small, glowing green orb of rock materialized in his palm and spiraled for their consideration. "The great Guardian of Earth, Terradora, should have been the one to pass into Daragon. Instead, the Council deemed it fit to waste her in that ill-gotten assault upon Monkano…"

"Time out." The Fallen held his brow. "How many strongpoints does the Dark Army currently have?"

"Monkano Island has turned into a forge and warfactory for the Apes. We do not know the warlord's name who Malefora has given fealty over that place. We do know that they supply Cynder's army with the majority of their weapons and armor.

"The Forlorn Watch is the youngest of the dark fortresses to arise. Cynder has been amplifying her master's occupation over the whole southern landmass through this place, but aside from a garrison, we haven't a firm idea as to what else the Dark One is using Forlorn for." Ignitia explained.

"Mana Crystals." The Fallen stated.

"That was quick." Harad edged a brow. "How do you know this information? The swamps have been drained of magic and enchantments for years."

"Maybe on the surface. But me and Spyra determined early on that the Apes aren't here for the swamps, they're here for the cavern networks underneath it." The Fallen said. "These caves and methane cavities are apparently stocked full of Mana Crystals, which the Apes have been carting back to the Forlorn Watch in droves, no doubt to manufacture more of these creatures you've spoken of, Grublins? Orcs? Ugly horrors born from the earth? Here's how Malefora is doing it. Taking out Forlorn limits her ability to deploy troop strength in the rest of the fronts."

"Then there's Concurrent Skies, a mass of crystalline snow islands levitating in an eternal magical storm known as the Blue Hurricane. Cynder's castle resides there, and the islands have remained a staging ground for decades even before she arrived." Ignitia gestured with her tail to the center of the chamber they all stood in.

Overlooking the convene was the largest dragon statue in the temple. It was easily several stories high, curled regally, with its horns reaching for the amber dome above. This room had once been the temple's elemental training room. It was a little cramped, but it fit the needs as a warroom.

A map of the known world had been laid out on the floor. The Fallen had been considering it painstakingly throughout the entire discussion, refusing to part his eyes from it.

"You're tellin' me this bitch has been running Forlorn like a vacation house?" Spyra gawked. "She's got an even bigger fortress? That's stupid! Not fair at all."

"Lastly," Ignitia poked her tailtip into a large, blackly shaded landmass north of the swamps, over two oceans, running parallel to the Dragon Realms over the Ancient Sea. "there is the Dark Continent. Malefora's volcano and her palace reside there. That is the center of evil. The Dark Army was born there, when Malefora fled from the first Guardians after her failed training."

"Training." Spyra blinked. "At Warfang? Why would you train your greatest enemy? What was she trained in?"

"Elements, combat technique and the like. I was a hatchling long after Malefora had betrayed us all and plunged the world into this war, all in her bid to dominate sentient life." Ignitia sadly recalled.

"You haven't connected the dots?" The Fallen tore his eyes from the map and looked at Spyra for the first time in the whole discussion. The room was silent, even for Harad, who begrudgingly found himself mute in the face of it all.

"No." Spyra mumbled. "Can't someone just tell me?"

"She was-"

"-the first Purple Dragoness." The Fallen cut Ignitia off. "That much is clear now. I think it also says a lot about why Mr. Harad here is so constipated about what you have to say."

"The belief of a second corrupted purple dragon, is real, but aloof." Ignitia quickly stepped in again before Harad could start shouting. "That is why Spyra's egg was kept here, far away in the south, to prevent Malefora from corrupting her to her side through the use of magic, like she did to Cynder…"

"…Oh yes, that jiggly piece of booty, how could I forg-" The Fallen noticed the stares, and cleared his throat. "-Ahem, I mean, that terrible fell creature of darkness. Indeed. Where'd she pop out from?"

"The same clutch of eggs as Spyra." Harad nodded angrily at the purple dragon. "Because that clutch was cursed from the first conception! Corruption ran through its veins even before the axe fell. The south should have been abandoned in the prior age."

"Captain, I must kindly order you to shut your mouth." Ignitia gave another of her pleasant smiles, like she had asked Harad the condition of the weather. "Spyra is not like Cynder, and she is most certainly not like Malefora. She is uncorrupted, pure? Perhaps not, given the rather broad and barbaric vocabulary she has developed… but uncorrupted, none the less."

"Guilty as charged there." Spyra snickered. "It's all about the wrist movements, that's where the shit happens."

"You folks are in one heck of a stink." The Fallen knelt before the map and ran his fingers over the Dark Continent, smiling in deep thought. "…But I don't see this as unwinnable. Yet. You are running out of time, that I'm not going to lie to you about. And I think I have an idea."

The human looked at Ignitia.

"From this moment forth, I pledge my service to the City and Realm of Warfang, on condition, that we break the occupation of the swamp, and protect Spyra's home, keep her adoptive family safe from the Apes." He gestured to Spyra. "If you all can guarantee me that… Then yes, I will fight for you. I'll win your war for you."

"Ha!" Harad mocked. "One little simian who fell from the sky? Breaking a war that has been raging across the surface of the world for the last few centuries? One that's burned through tens of thousands of souls? You're a joke, or a fool, or perhaps both. Needless to say, you are wasting both of our times. Wingleader Ignitia, we must discuss long term strategy."

"You're free to reject my help. However, I almost rejected Spyra's help myself." The Fallen stood up and crossed his arms. "I've come to learn how much of a mistake that ultimately would've become. Without her being my guide, we would've never reached the Dragon Temple before Ignitia and your squad departed. I would've been bogged down by Apes, but Spyra knew all the shortcuts and hidden paths. My point being; don't make a quick decision you'll later regret. I'm asking you to reconsider."

"That's a touching argument." Harad pawed the map, and scrunched it back up until it was rolled and compact. He handed it to Ignitia, before trotting for the chamber exit. "But we have a realm to defend, and you are not part of it. Your understanding of warfare has so far proven inadequate and shockingly unprofessional. We're done speaking, human. Corrinthol, Torrdonal, get ready, we're leaving."

"I've given no such order, Captain." Ignitia reminded. Harad ignored her, and soon had vanished into the halls beyond. "It pains me to see such hard-headedness in charge of our youth…"

"Dickhead." Spyra spat in the direction of the archway and sat next to the Fallen. "You okay there, big guy?"

"Nobody calls me incompetent." The Fallen sneered. "I'm about to open up a can of whoop-ass that infidels like him shan't soon forget. You all want a plan? I've got a plan…"

"Have I proclaimed that I will not be following the Captain's example?" Ignitia raised a brow, sizing the human up from head to toe. "I do not trust you, Fallen, at least not entirely. I can't take away from the fact that you have dutifully protected Spyra these last few days, and she to you, but… think about what you're asking me to do. Forget all I've been taught, and all that my fellow dragons have planned for decades, all so I can follow the on-the-spot idea of an alien that fell out of the sky."

"I said the same thing." Spyra chimed. "But I actually listened to him, and, uh… yeah, really good idea to listen to him. Leads to much less heartache and shit in the mouth."

"You're either in or out." The Fallen smiled at Spyra and frowned at Ignitia. "We're going to take down that tower and stop Cynder. You can help us or watch, but don't get in our ways."


{🐉}

Palmet was busy digging inside his nose when the other fellow reemerged from the mushrooms, hopping around as he struggled with his belt.

"Everythin go awright?" He asked, his voice nasally tinged as he fingered his nostril. The other Ape just gave a little grunting sound and kicked one of his legs in the air as response. "Ehm, glad ta hear it."

"Did you lot find something?" Drulop's deep, guttural voice etched out from the top of the ravine.

"No, Drulop-! I mean sir- I mean ma'am- I mean big tall and scary-" Palmet sputtered. Drulop cut him off with an apish bark and a swing of his cleaver.

"Agh~! Shut it! Forget I said anythin. Just hurry up and get back in file."

Drulop's piggish eyes drooped on the second Ape at the ravine's bottom, noting the almost shamed bow of his ugly head.

"Oi, you still got the runs there, lad?"

The other Ape nodded sheepishly.

Drulop burst into foul, jagged laughter, sweeping his cleaver as he turned around and lumbered back onto the path.

"Don't leave a trail for that dragon to track us by. I'd hate ta be undone by shit." Drulop called back. "All you get yourselves in order! We're takin it west!"

Itching at the unmistakeable attentions from fleas, Palmet deflated his priorly rigid stance and chattered through his unbrushed, yellow molars. It was the nature of the Apes to hate the pecking order when they were on the low side of it. Their society was, after all, built upon the very timid back of betrayal and scheming, and Drulop was the officer of this mob, only because he was bigger and stronger and less patient than the others.

"If he didn't have dat cleaver, I'd carve in him a new lesson er two…" Palmet finished digging in his nose, angling an eye quickly at the machete hanging from his belts. Examining the wad of solid snot on his claw for a second, he popped the slimy treat in his mouth and waved at the other Ape, the one whose name he still hadn't bothered to learn. "Ya didn't tell me you were startin ta come down with the squirts, ya little filcher. What if ya infected me with ya filth? What then?"

The nameless Ape snarled and shouldered past Palmet roughly, mounting all fours and knuckle-sprinting up the ravine's ramp. Palmet rolled his jaw and hiked up after him, his chainmail clinking in the hollow din of the swamp.

"When's the mistress gonna realize that there ain't nothin out here?" He called through the willow trees and mushroom clusters. "That purple drag and the hoo-man have probably turned tail and arse by now! Halfway across the geysers."

"Are you two fuckin or somethin back there? Get back in the ranks!" Drulop's gruff voice sailed from the distance, making Palmet wheeze as he topped the mudslide and hurried through the peat puddles and foliage.

"You couldn't have done me the courtesy of tellin him I was on my way? That's just uncivilized that is…" Palmet complained incessantly. He'd always done that since he'd been thrown in the whelp pits. It was probably why his own father had called him 'Bitch' all the time instead of his real name.

Palmet had taught everyone better than to give him lip when he had knifed the old Ape for stealing a cooked rib from him during a feast. Nothing like turning the table into an abattoir to silence the rabble. It at least meant his dreams for authority over others weren't entirely too far fetched. To survive in the tribes you needed to be nastier than the other Apes. There wasn't an officer in Visigoth's caste corps that hadn't eaten somebody's heart or decapitated a drinking buddy when things got rough in the watering holes.

"Alright, I'm here. Let's pack it or lose it, boss." Palmet itched his fleas as he bundled through a bush and came onto the path. A motley assortment of ten other Apes turned to look at him quizzically, and at their head was Drulop, who had his neck craned around his sole iron pauldron. Palmet blinked. "…Lads… you're starin."

"Where's Latook?" One of the other soldiers croaked.

"Who the bugger nuts is Latook?"

"He didn't show before you did." Drulop was coming back to the rear of the pack, his baboon nose turned up to the wind as he tested the swamp air. "Ya didn't knife im did ya? Offisas should be informed properly before ya do."

"You lot are talkin about Shits, aren't ya?" Palmet snorted, the metallic taste of his own snot still thick on his tongue. "He's the one who ran ahed a me!"

"He vanished!" One of the others hooted. "Oly crapweeds, we're all gonna die! It's- It's the purple drag!"

"Shut your cake hole." Drulop silenced him with a menacing gesture of his cleaver. "He mighta just fell in a peat puddle or taken a wrong turn. No other patrols in this area have come back with unexplained losses. If the purple drag and the hooman were here, we'd ave known already."

"Coulda' been a Bulby Crawler." Palmet suggested, wriggling his fingers for emphasis in the shape of a spider. "Those fings are silent as a rat in a nook when they wanna be. Watched one snag a Toadwort a while back. Stupid fing didn't even see it comin til the Bulby got the drop."

Some of the other Apes turned their gazes fearfully at the willow tree canopies above them.

"I don't like repeatin myself." Drulop growled. "When I said shut yer cake hole, I meant all of you lot. Stay together and keep your eyeballs peelie. If we got trouble, I want the drop, not dem."

Drulop took the pack's head again and led on. Weapons were unsheathed. Palmet himself whipped out his machete and chanced a series of quick glances about the foliage, his pug-eyes darting everywhere.

"Say, what evva happened to da Chief's teeth?" Someone tried to lighten the mood, it was pretty proactive for an Ape. Palmet decided he was impressed, and if his last blade-partner turned up dead, then he'd proposition this new fellow for the job. "Other lads are sayin the purple drag knocked a lot of em out with a rock or something."

"Visigoth's good and fixed." Drulop rumbled. "The healers and some weirdo-invention from that Tinker bugger solved him right."

"How come the Chief gets the potions while we're stuck with maggot-meat, rags and harsh language?" Someone else snorted. Drulop spun around and backhanded the offender across the jaw, sending a bloody tooth spiraling into the foliage. The lesser Ape howled and nursed his mandible.

"Now yu can be like the Chief, without the fixin." Drulop snarled. "Any other stupid questions for the afternoon?"

Palmet was snickering at the misfortune of his comrades when his foot slapped into a puddle.

A warm, wet and recent puddle. He looked down.

Deep crimson.

"Blood?" He yelped.

"Ooo-Ha! Good one there." Another soldier tugged at the wounded one's mouth, earning a pained shriek. "… Wait, that's not funny. You're just observin shite. That's dumb comedy thievery!"

"No, you arse-tickler, blood~!" Palmet pointed, panicked.

Drulop stormed over and gazed at the puddle of viscera for a moment, before he looked off behind a cloister of mushrooms. Laying there in a heap was the limp body of Latook, his lifeless eyes staring up at the canopy above, his throat opened and rendering his upper body sticky with an arterial downpour of nearly black fluid.

"Aw nuts…" Palmet ran his foot through the dirt. "…I stepped in Latook's jam. What luck for me."

"Stay together and watch all our sides, we-" Drulop turned around and gawked at his squad.

Now, no Apes were good at math, but Drulop was an officer, which meant he didn't have the advanced form of stupidity that the majority of his kind did. He could pick out a warrior missing, and even some of the other soldiers were starting to realize it too.

"They got Friknut!" The same hysterics-chanter from earlier squealed. "Oly fuckweazles we're bloody doomed!"

Drulop was just about to slash open the smaller Ape's face for cowardice, when suddenly, a thicket rustled and something appeared on the side of the footpath.

Turning, the Apes saw a pale-skinned, thin creature bedecked in a black, torn up jumpsuit, riddled in blades, a crossbow and a bandolier of explosives.

Palmet's brain clicked, like a slow cooker going off.

"It's the hoo-man~!" He shrieked, clutching his machete like it was a comforting teddy-bear. The Ape gasped before giving off a piercing, feminine scream.

The Ape with the broken jaw tried to say something, but all that came out was a burble around the blood pooling in his teeth. Someone bellowed a warcry and several of the warriors surged forwards, weapons high in the air.

Drulop sneered and ripped a stick of dynamite out of his hip sash. He struck the fuse tug and hurled it at the human.

The Fallen lashed out with his heel and sent an Ape tumbling. He ducked under a blade and hooked his arms around the second attacker's ribcage, throwing him into the third. All three Apes fell in a tussle. The Fallen caught the dynamite stick like a baseball, underhanded it into the flopping mess of bodies, and stepped back.

Bannnggg~!

-Palmet thought the path was becoming obscured by fog. When he licked his teeth and realized that it was a metallic-tasting mist, he understood better.

"Where'd he go?" An Ape howled. "He disappeared!"

"Stay together! He's usin hit and run!" Drulop snapped, freeing a small warhorn from his belt. He went to press the nozzle to his chipped lips, when a shrill whistle stole the remaining squad's attention.

"Oooooh boys~." Spyra sniggered, having jumped onto the path. She had her rump raised in the air, and even gave the Apes a mocking wiggle of her hips. She raised a purple brow and craned back a paw to slap her ass. "Don't ya' want some roast dragon haunch? I promise I don't bite."

Drulop snarled and started to step forward, but a pained wheeze from behind him drew his attention.

Another Ape lye dead on the dirt, his throat opened just like Latook's had been. The Fallen himself had moved on to Palmet, and had him in a headlock, the stolen blade he was wielding compressing the panicking warrior's carotid.

However, the Fallen was prevented from finishing the kill, his eyes were wide, and his jaw was agape.

Durg booty.

Palmet struggled in his grip, dropping his machete to claw at the human's head locking arm.

"-I surrender-! Have mercy, have mercy! I'll do anyfing you want-!" Suddenly, the Ape felt a disturbance from behind. He went still and craned over to see that the hoo-man was sporting a particularly noticeable bulge in the jumpsuit's crotch. Palmet screamed even louder. "Noooooooo~! I take it back! For bugger's sake JUST FUCKIN KILL ME!"

"No, wait! All of you need to look over here! Here! See the butt? See the…" Spyra spun around with an angry look as all the Apes jumped at the Fallen again. "-Son of a bitch! Who woulda' thunk it. All of Cynder's monkeys are gay!"

But not the Fallen.

Those hips are-

The Fallen hissed through his teeth and dropped Palmet like a bad habit. The Ape squealed as his own comrades trampled him in their rush.

One of the Apes swung a club and smashed the Fallen in the wrist. He cried out from the blow, and his looted Ape-blade went flipping off into the swamp.

Spinning on an ankle, the Fallen nursed his bleeding arm and came back with a rounded kick. The blow shattered the Ape's teeth and sent him reeling. Another rushed into the breach, swinging madly, driving the Fallen onto the ground as the human was forced to scrabble back for safety.

Spyra darted out of the woodwork, her claws flickering but once. The Ape fell to his knees when a trio of deep gashes seemingly materialized out of nowhere across his chest and throat after the dragoness passed, blood fell in a misting fountain.

Spyra landed and bathed the last of the Ape soldiers in a torrent of liquid fire. The Fallen had to shield his face from the heat as the Apes' screams were drowned out in an elemental whoosh. They came apart as they collapsed, their fur blistering away and their skin turning to rubber.

When one of the bodies didn't fall fast enough, Spyra snapped her jaws closed, killed the stream of flame, and swatted the smoldering cadaver to ruin with a spinning tail whip.

The Ape's corpse crinkled like burnt paper when it hit the ground.

"You okay, alien-man?" Spyra offered a wing and yanked the Fallen to his feet.

"Better now that you're here." He wheezed. "When I said to distract them, I didn't mean entice them."

"You said to improvise!" She defended.

He reached into his suit hem for another regen-injection. He couldn't feel his arm, and peering at it revealed that the club strike had most likely shattered the bone. His skin was turning black and purple.

"Heya', reminds you of a chick, don't it?" Spyra grimaced.

"Funny." The Fallen winced as he spat the cap off and stuck the syringe home. A bone snapped and he snarled in agony. The purple and black bruising began to dematerialize before their eyes. "Wasn't the goal to take one of these people alive?"

"It's their fault." Spyra accusingly looked down at the smoldering corpses. The Fallen retrieved his blade and wiped the gore off on an ashen victim's ankle. "Besides, we still got one more to-"

Drulop finished blowing out the horn's alarm signal before tossing it away and brandishing his cleaver. The larger Ape roared as loud as he could and ran for them, taking a small roundel shield off his back to match his cleaver.

"For the Dark Mistress!" He bellowed, bringing his weapon down in a strike.

Spyra zipped around his heels and the Fallen sidestepped to safety. Before Drulop could blink, his world became fire and pain.

Spyra lit him up like a Roman Candle. The Ape screamed horrifically as his flesh cindered off his bones. He fell to his knees, dropped his weapons and cried out in a long drawl of sheer agony meshed with the crackle of fire.

The Fallen stepped forwards and sliced him through the flames across his face. Steaming blood spurted out and the officer tumbled backward in a crumpled heap, the fire extinguishing itself as soon as life left his broken form.

"Alive, huh?" Spyra panted.

"God damn it." The Fallen slapped his own forehead. "Stop setting them on fire!"

"I can't help it, dude! It's like my inner dragoness is coming out for the first time! Those Mana Crystals were dope as fuck." Spyra giggled, sauntering around the blistering cadaver on wiggling hips, like she was doing a jig. "I feel better than ever!"

"-But that's-" The Fallen stopped himself, and let his frustration out with a sigh. "…Well I'm happy for you."

"If it didn't smell like crispy dead people right now…" Spyra left the sentence hanging in the air. Her eyes hungrily drew around the Fallen's face.

The atmosphere changed instantly, the human lowering his arms and staring dumbly at her.

"-...Hey, Fallen?"

"Yeah?" He was staring at her purple, feral ass.

"Is it weird that I kinda' want to fuck you right now?"

If he had a hope in high hell of concealing the boner, it burned away with the Apes and their ill-gotten hides.

In fact, something probably would've happened right at that moment, even over all the charred dead monkey corpses. The Fallen had dropped his blade and Spyra was preening her wings. Truthfully, she was white as a sheet, and trembling. Even battle-adrenaline didn't do that to her!

Then the cockblock-express just had to barge in and ruin everything.

The air rumbled under the duress of a shrill, abominable cry, followed by the ragged reports of hoots and barks coming from behind some mushrooms and willows.

"Oh, look at that there's…. more of them…" Spyra deflated like a popped balloon, scrunching her muzzle in disappointment. It even looked like her horns drooped.

An Ape that was even larger than Drulop leaped out from the foliage, his wild pug eyes locking on the pair.

He was wearing a set of iron pauldrons over all his other ragtag gear. An axe clenched in his fist crackled with bands of golden energy, and a wide berthed steel shield curled over his opposite arm.

The Ape Commander barked like a dog, drooling as he battered the flat of his axe on the shield in a challenge.

"We can take him." Spyra snickered, hip-bumping the Fallen.

Crash~! –something the size of a small elephant fell out of the sky and kicked up a dust cloud.


{Halo 4 OST: Desecration}


The Fallen and Spyra stepped back as a hunchbacked, scale-ridden beast mounted up from the impact site. It had a hanging, fanged maw decorated with drool-slicked teeth. A pair of yellow eyes stared listlessly at them from a goblinoid and snarling face. Its arched neck was bedecked in spines that shivered in reaction to the monster's rage.

It had no front arms to match its digitigrade clawed feet. Instead, its wyvern-like build was accentuated with a flight of jet black and ragged bat wings. There was an Ape riding on its spine, whipping the thing forwards with a set of hastily strapped reins and coarse language.

There were talons, wicked teeth and claws available to this creature, and perhaps the two companions were more prepared for those than anything else.

So when the monster inhaled an audible gust of breath, they knew something was amiss.

The Dreadwing heaved back and screamed.

Within a second, the Fallen had collapsed. He dropped his weapon as the boom ricocheted around the interior of his skull, hearing only white noise through the crippling sonic attack.

Spyra bucked onto her rear legs and shrieked, she tried to spread her wings to take flight, but they spasmed and only sent her crashing to the ground. Tears welled in her eyes and she writhed in agony.

The Fallen barely managed to get on a heel before he tried to call for her, but he couldn't even hear himself much less get across to her.

"Spyra!" He shouted, crawling over to grab and shake her shoulder.

"-Yah!" The Ape rider howled and flicked the reigns. The Dreadwing snapped its jaws, and started to run on its heavy wing-joints and feet, bounding at them in the style of an angry grizzly bear.

Ba-dmm ba-dmm ba-dmm ba-dmm

The Dreadwing had to weigh at least a ton.

Holy fuck this was bad.

The Fallen shook Spyra one last time as the Dreadwing got closer. It shrieked, just as the dragoness opened her eyes, though she was still cringing horribly, like someone had driven a knife in her leg and was twisting.

"Get up!" The Fallen hiked an arm under her breast and yanked her to her feet. "Get. Up."

The Dreadwing was on top of them in a second. A high pitched squeal rung out from its throat, a sort of pleased trill at the possibility of fresh prey-meat. It snapped its jaws shut in a vice, trying to clip the Fallen in half at the waist.

He dove under the Dreadwing's spiny belly and rolled with Spyra still wrapped in his arms. It was by sheer dumb luck that the bat-creature didn't trample them with its stomping rear talons. These shuddered the ground and passed over them in a rush of dust.

The Dreadwing howled and preened on its hinds, leaping backward to right itself as it darted around in confusion of where its meal had gone. The rider was on the border of having a stroke as he yanked on the reins, shouting repeatedly, and then resorting to batting the monster's hairy mane and pointing at their quarry.

"Wake up, stupid! They went under ya!"

"You okay?" The Fallen stood them both up, and dusted off her wings.

"I-I think so." Spyra prepared herself beside him, gazing in horror at the Dreadwing's haunches as the rider finally righted his mount, and it prepared for another barreling charge. "What the hell is that thing?!"

"I don't know." The Fallen cringed at a fresh array of cuts and bruises on both of them. He turned and saw more Ape soldiers flooding out from the foliage. A whole other mob. And just when things were looking easy. "Why do ambushes never work?"

"Is bitching the plan now?" Spyra shook it off, laughing, even though now the battle-adrenaline was making her tremble. She'd never admit that though. He knew she'd sooner die. "Talk to me, dude."

"We're getting boxed in." The Fallen fell to a knee and gestured for her. "Catapult and make a hole!"

"You got it!"

Spyra ran forwards and vaulted off the Fallen's back, spreading her wings, she soared right over the approaching line of Ape infantry. Many of them hooted and barked, swinging just short of her paws in futile swipes and hacks.

Spyra answered them by bathing the center of their ranks in a billowing cone of flames. Apes on the edges of the blast screamed as clothes and fur caught fire. The ones in the direct center burned to death, writhing silently as inhaled heat melted their vocal chords.

"Aren't you a pretty little thing." The Fallen stepped back as the Dreadwing trundled towards him. It opened its mouth and screamed at him in a shrill challenge. "Come here and give us a kiss."

The rider snapped the reigns and the Dreadwing charged.

Probably could have thought that through a little bit more…

The Fallen came to the realization that he didn't have anything he could do to stop the monster. A rapidly approaching mass of weight that had lots of sharp stabby bits on it was tumbling right for him.

It was the worst time to be caught standing around with one's thumb up their ass.

But he tried to make due.

It just didn't end so well.

Thwack~! –the Fallen couldn't even scream as the Dreadwing royally kicked his ass, negating his attempt to roll away with an effective swat of its mighty bat wing.

The Fallen flipped through the air and crushed a cloister of mushrooms, spore pods spewing everywhere in nasty plumes of foul-smelling smog.

Holding his breath, he grunted through the pain and rolled, relying on his weight to flatten any of the smaller caps. The Dreadwing landed where he lye a second later, squashing the rest of the cloister and showering the shredded remains with a flurry of bites that could've punctured sheet metal.

The Fallen hopped painfully astride and slashed his blade across the Dreadwing's thigh. Black blood spurted from the wound and the monster shrieked. It spun around and swatted him again.

P-dnnffff~!

-This time, he hit a tree.

And by fuck's dick did it hurt.

He considered it a good thing nobody was around to see him mewling like a little bitch on the ground, holding his ribs. He felt a bit like Corrinthol, actually, in this awful moment of kinship with the crimson testicular-fondler.

Not that he regretted choking that bastard out.

Guy was a douchebag.

"…Mary had a little dragon… and I can't feel my FUCKIN RIBS…" The Fallen barked, trembling as he stood back up. "Do you know what happens to people who play ragdoll with me?! You crooked-jaw Dracula wannabe?"

In full gear? With all of his normal toys?

This would've been a joke. Medieval warfare had nothing against modern tech.

The problem was, the Fallen was still caught in a realm that had abandoned him. Apes were easy. Dreadwings? He'd need a fresh strategy.

"I don't have time for this shit, I'm gonna' rip your throat out, you-"

FWAP~!

-It was like a cat batting around a ball of yarn.

He indented the center of a thicket with a crunch and lye there, dazed eyes trying to make sense of the swarm of lantern bugs that were frightened from hiding around the bush as they fled from him.

The advantage of not being able to feel something: hit it again? Numb as can be, baby.

Reminded him of a lot of past experiences.

The last thing that had played chew-toy with him, he'd wound up fucking. It was too bad the Dreadwing was the ugliest son of a bitch he'd recently encountered in the reptile/bat kingdom.

The Fallen was still trying to get up when his attacker returned for yet another round. This time, it would've proven to be the last.

But just as the Dreadwing was about to sink its teeth into his soft, pliant human flesh, a jet of fire streamed out and washed over the shrieking abomination's face.

The Dreadwing screamed and reared on its hinds, using its huge wingspan to block the stream of flame from further melting its mug. Even then, the dragonflame began to singe through the membranes and char the joints.

Spyra flapped her wings and hovered over the Fallen, giving it all she had.

That makes two today! –He had no doubt she'd scoff him with if she could.

The Ape Commander belted out a challenge and strode forward to the engagement. The Fallen painfully rolled to a stand and gasped at the Ape's axe. He was pointing it, like it was a wand, and the looping bands of electricity dancing down its haft were concentrating just above the cap.

He figured the weapon had been enchanted to begin with, but this…

"NO!" The Fallen cried.

The Ape's arm jolted, and a pure strain lightning bolt shot out from the axe with the speed of a bullet. It danced across the distance like a strange, airborne serpent, flying right over his head and colliding with Spyra's ribcage.

The Purple Dragoness was smacked out of the sky with a cringe-worthy Bzzttt~! –of noise. She trailed soot and flipped like an out of control plane before vanishing in a thicket.

The Fallen lost his mind.

Screaming at the very top of his lungs, a repeat of what had happened by the river corpse began to play out. Pure and unadulterated rage began to flow through the Fallen's veins in place of his own blood. Adrenaline surged into his muscles and he couldn't feel his own insides.

It felt like magma had replaced his internal organs. He was weightless, and everything had a flavor of red tinged into it.

The Dreadwing was still screeching, thundering the earth as it thrashed and kicked, apparently, suffering from its eyes being burned out of its skull.

The Fallen's bruises and fractures were but for naught with the angered invigoration at seeing his draconic companion getting shot out of the clouds. He sprinted, ducking underneath one of its wings before latching onto the reigns. He swung on the chord like it was a vine and landed just behind the Ape rider's little saddle on the Dreadwing's massive back.

The rider just turned around and blinked, unable to process the speed in which he'd been boarded.

The Fallen encapsulated the simian warrior's mandible and throat into the groove of his arm crease. He compressed and wrenched his shoulder, nearly twisting the Ape's head completely around.

The corpse tumbled from the seat as the Dreadwing bucked on its hind legs. The Fallen snarled, holding onto one of the beast's spines and the rear of the saddle for leverage. He dangled in the air until the Dreadwing landed back on its fores with a thunderous bang! Slipping into the throne-like mount, the human yanked on the reigns so harshly that he drew blood from the bat's oral creases.

"Yah!" He screamed, whipping the monster into a frenzy with fevered kicks and yanks. The Dreadwing screeched- maddened by the pain eating away at its face –and barreled in whatever direction the Fallen willed.

A cluster of Apes screamed as their own beast of burden trampled them. The physical strength of the Dreadwing was terrible indeed. Organs splashed out as Apes were compressed bodily to the dirt and completely flattened. The blinded bat monster killed indiscriminately, driven crazy by the unbearable surge of damage it had suffered. The Fallen had the look of a madman on his face as he drove the living weapon about the battlefield like it was a bulldozer, sometimes smashing already felled corpses just for seeing a reflexive spasm in a leg or arm.

The Ape Commander and a small cadre of soldiers closest to him were the only ones who initially escaped the rampage. The officer swept his axe in a wide arc, directing a bundle of maybe eight of his lessers in a flanking move. Bands of lightning shot out from the weapon next and fried the Dreadwing's furry back just ahead of the Fallen's feet.

The beast shrieked as its hide blistered and cooked. The Fallen could feel the electricity himself, mounted on the thing. It felt like someone was rapidly jittering his limbs up and down so fast that his bones were turning numb. He saw black and white and started to tumble from the saddle.

He looped once past the rampaging bat's ribs. A quick lash of his arm, and he used his newly stolen Ape blade as a meat-hook, latching onto the beast's flank.

The Dreadwing screamed even louder and started to alter its charge path to the side he was stabbed through. The Fallen was dragged through the dirt, grunting as he swerved his legs side to side to avoid getting them crushed under the Dreadwing's rear foot.

The Ape Commander threw himself from the warpath and rolled to safety through the dust. The Fallen snarled as he was helpless to adjust the Dreadwing's direction.

Unless.

He flailed, grabbing the blade's shaft with both hands. He twisted the steel in the wound.

The Dreadwing sharply made a turn and crashed head-first into a thick willow tree, causing the whole trunk to shiver like it was suffering a small earthquake.

The Dreadwing compressed like a pancake against the tree's foot, its wings shooting out awkwardly, one of them ripping the Fallen's blade from its ribs to send him rolling off. The monster quivered, deflating like a lawn decoration being cut off from its air pump. Blood leaked like rivers of tar from its cracked head. The cadaver twitched and lay there like a hairy mass of meat.

I've had worse rodeos.

The Fallen was forced to kill even as he recovered. He had to drag the first Ape down with a series of stabs to the feet and then the stomach. Bathing in blood, he wrestled another to the ground and gutted him like a fish.

It was only when the Commander was running over with that wicked axe, that a bolt of lightning shot out and eviscerated the last trio of soldiers hanging over the Fallen's prone form.

The Apes shrieked as electricity caused them to enact a macabre sort of dance. They looked like they were vibrating, even as soot started to leak from every orifice in their bodies. One of their heads exploded in a burst of skull fragments and gore. All three toppled, black and steaming.

Even the Commander looked shocked.

It was Spyra. She was running out from the foliage, mouth open, bands of… lightning shooting from her throat.

….Dafuq?

The Fallen rose to his knees, marveling as bolts of yellow power erupted past Spyra's fangs and danced over the Commander Ape's armored form. Evidently, he wasn't so resistant to his own spice being dished against him.

He screamed as Spyra zapped an educational message into every nerve ending on his furry husk. When he took too long to die, the Fallen grabbed up a machete lying on the bloodstained earth. He chucked it from the blade, where it flipped thrice and embedded to the hilt right through the Commander's furry temple.

The massive Ape's jaw clattered, like he was a nutcracker, and he toppled to the ground with a mighty crash.

There was some dust, but after that?

Nothin'.

Not even the birds were chirping anymore.


{Spyro The Eternal Night Soundtrack: Dreams}


Who the hell could say anything after a hot mess like that? The Fallen and Spyra slowly limped to one another through the field of bodies. Tens and tens of Apes lye in various states of dismemberment, insectile squashing and disarray.

The fucking clearing looked like a scene out of a horror movie. Spyra didn't even know things could bleed that much.

"…You okay there, hotshot?" Spyra panted weakly, giving him the most exhausted smile she had ever offered.

"Forget me." The Fallen collapsed to his knees, holding his hands out for her snout. Spyra grinned at him and peeled back her chops, and he watched in awe as little bands of electricity played through her teeth. "…How are you doing that?"

"I dummo. But ish cuul ash fuqq." She muffled, flexing her brows. "Commodore Francisco over there must've… I dunno', unlocked some kind of inner elemental thing inside me with that axe. I've… never been electrocuted before."

The Fallen laughed a little bit and rubbed her shoulders.

"Thank Christ for that." He chuckled.

"Which? Innocence up till' now, or the zap?" Spyra clunked foreheads with him and shut her eyes, trying to concentrate on getting her heart rate to lower. "'Cause I'm thinking both."

"I'd say both." He nodded slowly, reaching up to stroke the fiery fins running down her scalp. They felt a lot plusher than he would've pictured. Almost like marshmallows. "You saved my life."

"…Nah, it wasn't anything. I was just getting us even is all." Spyra nuzzled him. "I can't let anything happen to my first friend, my alien, human-boy friend."

Spyra put two and two together and went very quiet.

"…That came out a little differently than I meant. B-But it didn't, too… I… I hope…"

"You hope?" The Fallen heaved, wincing as his ribs flared up again.

"I'm not shallow." Spyra immediately gulped.

"Who fucking cares."

Then, he ate her face.

Well, at least he tried.

Spyra must have resembled a deer in headlights as the Fallen surged forwards all at once, and mashed his lips into the merger of her muzzle.

It was supposed to be a kiss, but seeing as Spyra had a snout, it turned more into a mouth-lock/tongue-duel sort of thing. Was it enough to warrant a complaint? Hell no. Not from either of them. This was the most exhilarating thing she'd ever done in her life, bar none.

Not even zapping a giant monkey to death came close to this.

All of the fantasies that had buzzed in Spyra's young mind came flashing back at once. The idea of males, their bodies, their differences, and their masculine smell, it all happened in the same breath. Spyra's eyes rolled back into her head. She lifted her paws off the ground and hooked them over the Fallen's shoulders, letting him push her until her back compressed to the ground and his hands were pinning her shoulders. He twisted his head and pried open her soft mouth, chancing her fangs as he lapped his smaller tongue over hers in a fantastic mesh of squelching spit and slapping flesh.

Spyra didn't care how she sounded. She belted out the most whorish moan she could manage, captivated by the human's metallic taste, and the spongy, pliable strips of skin that made his lips.

Her tongue was like a serpent's, and so there wasn't much space for it to explore as she fought off his advances and invaded his mouth in turn. She couldn't work out a better description besides puffy for the interior of his throat. She unwound her licker's whole length, bundling it like a gigantic licorice rope inside his face until she literally ran out of room.

She dragged her rear talons across his thighs, cupping the raging bulge in the groin of his jumpsuit between her toes and squeezing. The Fallen grunted animalistically, dry-humping her legs apart and ramming his needle-thin hips into the glorious valley of her thick, plush and scaly nethers.

Enough of his jumpsuit was ripped that the impact produced a clap! –of skin bouncing off scale. Spyra made a 'Hmmff~!' –sound with each thrust. He drummed into her like a piston, bouncing the thin barricade shielding him from her off her golden tummy.

"-Wait-wait-" Spyra slicked away from his mouth, cooing when he slipped down her jaw and started to bite her neck. That was enough to start a motor. Spyra gasped when she realized that a consistent rumble was starting to drum about inside her breast.

Even the Fallen paused for a second, leaving her golden throat to smile at her smartly.

"Got you to purr." He winked.

"Time out, stud, I need a minute…" Spyra giggled, pushing him off her a bit with her wings. He lay on top of her for a while, allowing the only ambiance to be their hushed breathing. Covered in lacerations and bruises, both of them stared at each other in a long moment of quiet. "…I had absolutely no idea you were this into me." She joked.

"Dragonesses are my specialty." He said. "Why do you think I started jumping between worlds to begin with? I love your kind."

"We're not spinning any yarns though, right?" Spyra ground her hips against him, slowly, testing the feel of his rigid, lithe body against her plusher form. "This is… physical, purely physical. I mean, I-I like you… Okay, I really like you, more than I should. In fact it's probably shameful as fuck. But I've never really cared about stuff like that because it just seemed so stupid to care about. 'Specially because I've been alone, and guys never existed around these parts before and…"

She noticed that he was grinning at her like an idiot. Spyra fluttered her eyelids and blushed, giving him an embarrassed punch on the chest.

"What~?" She laughed, pawing her cheeks.

"You are adorable." He openly admitted. "Out of all the worlds I could've crashed on, I'm thankful I crashed on this one. There's no shortage of excitement around here, but none of that really adds up to you." He glanced briefly at all the carnage around them. "You're a trip, girlie."

"I should've screamed my problems at the sky earlier." Spyra muttered, biting her thumb as she watched the Fallen's groin and rubbed her own itching nethers against it.

"What?"

"Nevermind. So, uh… listen, you got needs, I got needs… Little Fallen down here is obviously in working order." Spyra spread her thick thighs a little more and revealed the winking length of her draconic slit. It was a magenta-hued sort-of pink. It was ringed by tightly wound, softer and smaller golden plates, and it was drooling enough for a seasoned dentist to lose his tools in the underflow. Glistening beads of liquid trimmed down the length and left a noticeable damp spot on the Fallen's jumpsuit.

That perfume smell was back and in force. It was so strong that it made his head buzz.

Pheromones.

It was torture every day, being able to literally smell out prime dragoness pussy like a fucking bloodhound.

Relief only came in indulgence. It'd been too long on his own end. At least, since the last portal. Dragonesses were things that needed to be enjoyed like fine wines. Temperament, a little seasoning through abstinence and a choice moment of action were what was needed when fulfilling the cravings of what had ultimately proven to be ravenous sexual creatures.

The Fallen wanted nothing more than to breed this purple beauty like she was a dripping bitch in heat.

Looking down at her slobbering her own cunt over his crotch, the description was pretty apt.

"…Mmf~, I'm game, human-boi'…" Spyra huskily grunted. "…You wanna' fool around in a corpse-pit? You like kinky stuff right? I'll pull a Cynder for ya' if it gets you going…"

"I don't want you to be Cynder, I want you to be you." He shuddered, working the compressed length of his dragon-conquerer between Spyra's lips. He hooked the bulge between her labia, gasping when she suckled through the jumpsuit material across his grith. It felt like he was running his puppy through a pair of gelatin cubes while it was in a blanket.

"…Do you really mean that?" Spyra sounded half-joking. But he knew she was entirely vulnerable. Again.

He answered by kissing her on the snout.

"You're perfect." He said. Spyra allowed a warm and slow smile to form. She held onto him tighter and sighed happily. She impossibly looked even cuter.

If he didn't pork the purple out of this dragoness soon, his balls would sprout arms, wield knives and murder him.

But….

There was always a mother fucking but.

And a butt. Purple butt.

The Fallen growled possessively and snagged two handfuls of bountiful dragon haunch, squeezing as hard as he could, he ran their hips together and indulged in a last moment of burying his groin in Spyra's plush, shapely body.

The purple reptile for her own part gave out a pained cry and locked eyes with him, licking her teeth as she rolled her waistline and lipped his dog through the suit. Surrounded by a stinking battle scene or not, sex was the global mediator.

"…We didn't stick to plan." The Fallen grumbled, merging their foreheads as he started to yank at the straps of his jumpsuit hem.

"I'd say fuck the plan. But don't fuck the plan..." Spyra opened her mouth and blew a smoke-ring across his face. "Fuck me, alien-boi'. Show a 'ness what you got."

The Fallen practically ripped his lower band off and sent a cavalcade of stolen equipment rattling to the earth nearby.

Fuck it.

Plans could kiss his royal crusading ass. This whole world and its politics and wars and Apes and other dragons could all go blow a fat one. He was plowing this hen right fucking here.

Besides, he almost got eaten by a giant mutated bat.

The least this place could do was give him a good durg-snatch to conquer. Spyra's was as fine as he had. Could there be some improvements? Sure.

The Fallen sized her up as he whipped out his pale rod and adjusted his knee placement. Spyra was licking her muzzle and staring at the organ just like she had when she had first seen it after he crashed. There she was, curvy, thick hipped, elegantly rounded at the chest, a prime feral gem.

…There was always time to allocate changes.

But he needed the rest of his gear to do that. That came later.

"…I've been thinking about how we could get this started." The Fallen admitted, stroking himself and aligning with Spyra's dripping opening. "But that's turning into another plan that didn't survive contact. Should I…?"

"I don't need foreplay right now, I need a quickie. Give me a dirty, roughhouse after-battle fuck, you hung alien stud, you hear me? Rut me into the fuckin' ground already."

The Fallen pressed the tip into her folds, and Spyra squeaked as she clawed onto his shoulders and buried her head in his neck. Avoiding her horns, her flame-spines stuck in his face, but they were so soft and plushy, that he didn't mind. It was like a big teddy-bear. A big teddy-bear that was anatomically correct, purple and undeniably sexy.

…Here goes, and hopes to avoiding himself getting rusty…. As he'd said, it'd been a while…

Spyra shivered as his spear parted the first barriers of her gates. It wasn't exactly troublesome. She was so lubricated by this point that she could've filled a water bottle. It was so new! She'd used her paws before, and hell, she had a few homebrew toys hidden under her nest back home, but to have an actual penis sticking in there?

Especially an alien penis?

Humans were the best.

The Fallen got another whiff of dragoness pheromones and plunged deeper. Just a few more seconds of travel, warm, slippery, velvety travel between parting rings of muscle and flaps and then….

His sack met the warm merger of her purple cheeks. The Fallen grunted. It felt like God was a woman and had just up and flipped aside her holy robes and sat on his dick.

It might've been that Spyra was a bit smaller, but damnation was she tight. It bordered phallic strangulation. Silky strangulation.

"-Hwooo~!" Spyra breathed, like a cool gust of wind had briskly blown in her face. She trembled a little. "…W-Wow… it… it kinda' hurts… actually…. Ow-!"

Spyra hissed, whining as a few slow stabs of discomfort started to imbed themselves amid the more pleasurable sensations of her interior walls being so deliciously spread. The Fallen controlled his need to start rabidly humping the poor dragon, and forced himself to rub as softly as he could manage across her purple hips.

"Give it a few minutes." He grit his teeth, grinding his forehead into her breast. He slid down her face to get there, like he was melting from the groin down. The expression he had could only be described as strained. "Guhhhh~… Fuck."

"Looks like I got the same style on the i-inside too, huh?" Spyra snickered, burying her snout in his messy hair and inhaling his scent. "-Ooooooo… that's… d-did you always have this vein running down your dick, dude? Geez', that must stand out, how'd I not see it?"

She clenched her vaginal muscles and laughed when he grunted in torment.

"I spent so long looking at the thing, you'd think I'd have a photographic shot of your cock up here by now." Spyra nuzzled his hair, working her hips into a slow rhythm of rolling. "…Wow… this is…. OoooOOoooHhhhhh…. This is NICE….~"

"Could get used to it right?" He breathed.

"Could get used to it." She parroted, bucking her hips. "I think I'm okay now."

"You sure?"

"Do I look like one of those emotional- ah~! –bitches who wants you to m-make love to them? No. –Ahh! –I. Need. You. To. Fuck me." She bit into his hair, and her tail started to curl around one of his legs. "C'mon, human-boi', show me what a jackhammer does. Shove some hatchlings in my cunt."

Son of a bitch. She could talk dirty, who figured? It shouldn't have been surprising. It was always the potty-mouths…

The Fallen started to get up a slow working of thrusts, her pink flower spreading and compressing with each pass of his rod. Spyra gasped, and she started to leak from the merger. Dragon-juices glittered in the afternoon sun as he literally fucked the waterworks out of her.

Nearby, the dead Dreadwing slumped to the side from where it had been face-smashed into the tree. Its cadaver rumbled the ground with a muted thwmp~! –as it rolled to a halt. The human and the dragon were too absorbed in their fevered grinding to even take notice.

"…H-Hey… I'm just thinking of this now." Spyra's voice hitched with each thrust. Liquid squelched and her own flesh started to echo out loudly as he pummeled her hole. She drooled as she spoke. "…w-what if more o-of them commmmmeeeeeohhhhAncestorssssfuckmeee….~"

The Fallen didn't answer her. He hiked her purple hips up and started to piston into her depths, hammering the dragoness into the dirt with a good few impacts. Spyra yipped and drew blood from her claws on his shoulders.

A particularly accurate thrust jabbed his head into a tender spot. She quickly ripped her nose from his hair, and a stream of broiling fire shot out of her throat and singed the atmosphere right over where they were laying.

Recovering was the tricky bit. She saw spots as she bit off the stream of dragonflame, soot trailing from her snout even through her attempts to stifle the spicy outburst. She mewled and rubbed her nose in his hair, trying to physically compress as much of her scaly body to him as she could.

The Fallen was mechanical in his precision, but tender in his direction. He had an established strategy, and so far it had worked on a pretty varied testbed. It was proving popular with the purple beastess as she moaned, rumbled and snarled, quite pleased with the fervent interspecies breeding.

"….You've done this before." Spyra opened an eye, weighing her paws on his chest. "Be straight with me."

"Don't ruin the mood." He muffled in her breast. Spyra creased a chop and kicked her wings. They rolled and he landed on his back, her straddling him, wiggling her hips to work in his cock in a more approachable angle from their new position. "You like being on top?"

"Right now, I'm kinda' shooting in the dark and finding what's sweetest…" Spyra sharply inhaled as he sank balls-deep again, smiling as she rolled her jiggling, purple hips and squeezed his member inside. "…What do you think?"

The Fallen was too busy humping up into her with his head craned back into the dirt to answer. He looked drunk as he fed the addiction, smiling like a dumbass and grunting up a storm. Spyra grinned and pinched her muscles, chuckling in pleasure when she made him sing.

"…I-I think I'm getting the hang of this…"

"You're a fast learner, but I told you that already." He raised a finger, his voice literally getting pounded out of him as Spyra raised her hips and started landing in his lap with a series of pained hums. Skin and scale plopped loudly, Spyra's tail swinging in gracious arcs over the merger as she sank her chest to his and rode him. "…AH-ahha… purple dragon... so… nice…."

"You like that?" Spyra muttered in his ear, slamming herself down on him as hard as she could, his spear penetrating her deeply enough to part the initial ring of her cervix. As it seemed, internally, dragonesses had a map of femininity that he could read pretty well. But some things were too different to overlook… "…T-That's my egg cooker you're feelin'."

The Fallen wheezed. All he could hear was that dastardly, fleshy plopping sound. It was the beating of a war drum of sex. Down down down down down. Stabbing something had never felt so good. Friction and friction, masses of undeniably female, scaly flesh wobbling around over his legs and his waist.

"…C'mon, hu-man… C'mon… I know you can do it~." Spyra moaned, wedging her face in the crook of his neck as the pleasure became too much. Her vision swam, and she growled as she drove her cunt over him even harder. Plap-plap-plap~! –Oh, woe betide his pelvis.

Necessary sacrifices for greater men.

"…Breed me~. Give Spyra some nice new whelps…~" Plap-plap-plap~! Thunder! Good heavens almighty… she wouldn't. It was too much.

"…B-Breed me. C'mon," She paused, letting her hitched breaths mark the brief interlude before: "-spurt all over momma's eggs."

Oh lords…

The Fallen didn't have a word in the English language that was appropriate to describe the blaring jumble of nonsense that invaded his mind.

It was something like insanity, something like a gunshot, a lot like a supernova.

It was explosive.

With a final, bottoming-out thrust, the Fallen's balls unloaded with the might of a pair of sibling gods. Two stars seeding forth their power. Spyra screamed as he grabbed her backside and smashed their hiplines together. Their organs twitched spastically as globules of intermeshed fluids erupted in ejaculatory torrents from within her lips and spattered him, her and the dirt beneath them both.

He painted the purple dragoness white as the poor Fallen jerked and twisted in all kinds of strange poses, his face doing a tango of expressions he didn't even know he had. He came so hard that angels somewhere erupted in chorused song.

He came so hard that other women across the Multiverse experienced spontaneous fertilization. Somewhere, a desert became green. A dead planet started the birth of its first amoebas.

Life suddenly had meaning again. The Fallen gave his last few pounds of effort, before ultimately slumping in an expended pile beneath her.

All at once, it came to a grinding halt.

Spyra cried out lastly, draping herself over this wonderful alien savior from sex-heaven as she ground their groins together. She marinated in the afterglow, fascinated with the sensation of their congealed fluids oozing down her thighs. She had temporarily lost the ability to speak. So all she got out was:

"-fenammphh…"

-And then she started lapping at his cheek, much like a dog.

The Fallen heaved under her, and let his arms slide off her ass. The dirt was the most comfortable bed right now. He settled in it and became one with it, melting, like ice under the sun.

….And then that was it.

His libido was sated, and so was hers. Days of sexual tension, multiple running battles and near-death experiences. There was no better way to sort out such troubles than blowing it all in a partner's hole.

When Spyra remembered how to form coherent sentences, she had to talk over her own panting. She touched their faces together and laughed quietly.

"…We were supposed to take one of these guys alive…" She giggled, nodding at the battlefield.

"…I know." He giggled right back.

"….Oooohhh, my achin skull… Alright, who's the bugga who knocked out my lights? Tato? Oh, shite! You're missin your bloody legs! Kalop? Ahhh! W-Where's your face?! Drulop! The whole troupe's dead- ohbuggayourecookedtoacrisp-"

The Fallen and Spyra looked over to see a lone Ape stumble onto his feet, and glance around the chaos in a complete stupor.

Palmet staggered drunkenly, his eyes fell on the coupling of man and dragon, he froze, and the entire left side of his face twitched.

"…H-Hello there." The Ape waved cheaply. "I hope I ain't interruptin anything… sensual."


{🐉}