lillend and dryad porn

Darrek slashed at the undergrowth with his dagger as he tromped through the glade.  His boots were stiff and chafed at his heels, and the harsh sun overhead was barely broken by the greenery.  Despite these hardships, Darrek smiled to himself as his knife moved swiftly and delicately, slicing away at the protruding buds and flowers that passed within his reach.

He came upon the entrance to the shrine, and sat heavily on one of the squat idols.  His boots were pulled free, and a pair of sweaty bare feet were allowed to rustle through the long grass.  He ran the back of his hand through his thin moustache, wiping the sweat away from his mouth.  He cleaned his blade carefully on the fabric of his ragged trousers before sheathing it.

The bag was completely full, stuffed with jewelry and heirlooms.  A few speckles of dried blood lingered on both it and his clothes.  Everything had gone according to plan.  Darrek sifted through the trinkets with cupped hands before tossing the satchel into the recesses of the tiny building, toppling some ceremonial sculpture with a loud clatter.

He hopped down, undid his belt, and began pissing on the idol.  He swiveled his hips, splashing his urine over the thing's upturned grimace, aiming for its beatific idiot's grin.  When he finished, he kicked the thing over, just on principle.

The abandoned shrine was little more than a holy broom closet to a god long forgotten, bereft of valuables but rich in meaningless carvings.  Darrek had figured it would be a good place to hide out between raids, an obscure and obfuscated hideaway in the middle of nowhere.  He found a place in the shade and stretched out on one of the mossed-over kneeling benches.  Idly, he picked at the peeling paint of one of the frescoes, trying to add devil horns to some anonymous cloaked saint.

"What are you doing?!?"  The voice was shrill and strident, definitely female.  Darrek squinted, and spotted a petite elven face somewhere in the bushes.  She had feathers on her head, and was wearing a skimpy multicoloured top of some sort, with metallic filigree bits that looked expensive.  She was alone.

Darrek drew his rapier, and twirled it expertly.  He grinned.  "Well, hello there, little girl.", he said menacingly, licking at the end of his facial hair, "What's your name?"

The girl's torso surged sinuously upwards, eight feet over the ground, and a gigantic pair of rainbow wings unfurled from her back.

"Oh, fuck ME."

Darrek immediately went rat, coarse black fur bursting all over his body, a long hairless tail erupting out of one of the holes in his trousers.  In one sleek movement, he leaped to the top of one of the idols, and sprang from there to the vine-covered eaves of the shrine.  The creature flapped, darting over his head and surrounding him with a giant coil of reptilian muscle.

Darrek snarled with his rodent's snout, baring his sharp orange teeth as he slashed forwards with his blade.  The birdsnakewoman parried with a gilded shortsword, their weapons meeting in midair with a loud clang.  Darrek flicked his wrist, and the rapier slashed to the side, scoring a long cut down an unprotected forearm.

Furious, the creature lashed out with her tail, wrapping it around Darrek's legs so that he pitched forward.  She squeezed, and a crackling noise came from his ankles.  Desperately, Darrek grabbed at the frictionless snakeskin with his clawed hands and stretched.  He sank his fangs into the vulnerable patch at the hips where pink skin merged into multicoloured scales.

The creature screamed and flung him backwards off the roof.  Darrek landed in a shrub, scrambled to regain his footing, and hurriedly scanned his escape routes with beady red eyes.  As he attempted to dart down into a recessed gully, gnarled roots snaked up around his legs, tripping him.  He rolled onto his back and tried to pry his feet free with his dagger, cursing angrily.

There was a flapping noise overhead, and the winged apparition dove at him with the sun at her back.  Darrek flung his dagger at her, forcing her to dodge in midair.  The soil-encrusted blade missed her face but stuck in one of her wings, and she rolled in a barely-controlled spin as she passed over his head.  Her shortsword fell out of her grip and got stuck in a tree trunk.  She touched ground and paused to yank the filthy dagger from the meat between her radius and ulna, wincing as she did so.

The wererat had attained his feet, and grinned as he threatened her with a sword in either hand.  The snakewoman refused to be cowed by a few lucky hits, and stood her ground, flexing her tail, beckoning the monster forward with his own knife, still smeared with her blood.  Obligingly, the lycanthrope surged forward, only to leap out of the way as her tail made another try for his ankles.  He slashed downwards at the prehensile appendage with both blades, marking an X on the soft underside.

Undaunted, the creature charged him, knife extended, howling.  She sank the filthy blade into his torso to the hilt and held it there, twisting it.  Calmly, the rodent regarded her and smirked before striking with his swords again, raking their blades along her exposed back.  Leaving the dagger embedded in her foe, the creature slithered backwards, low to the ground, presenting a smaller profile, putting a few saplings between herself and her enemy.

A long, thin knife was pressed into her hand.

Without looking back, the creature shot forward again, slashing with the new weapon.  The diminutive blade sliced across the wererat's face, spraying an arc of blood with an audible hissing noise.  The rat screeched and dropped one of the swords, a hand darting to cover the wound.  Not pausing, the creature slashed again, leaving a deep gouge under his ribs.

Darrek staggered backwards, barely conscious now.  The coils were around him in an instant, squeezing the final breath from his body.  The last thing he saw was the delicate alien beauty of his killer, contorted in implacable anger.  Not taking any chances, she slit his throat with the silver knife, jabbed both eyes, and buried the thing into his sternum.  She constricted the leaking corpse until it was obvious he would not draw breath again, then finally relaxed, allowing the body to slip through her tail and slump onto the forest floor.

The lillend exhaled and shuddered, brushing her arms nervously.  She took the time to lay out the body neatly, careful not to get any more blood on her.  She muttered a quick prayer under her breath, wishing mercy for her fallen foe in whatever afterlife he encountered.  She slithered over to the shrine and carefully picked the defaced idol back up, placing on its pedestal, turning it to face the north.  She paused a while in the sunlight, listening carefully to the abstract music of the leaves in the wind.

"I know you're there.", she said.

The leaves rustled less.

"It's not just the knife.  I've seen you in the standing rocks, I've seen you in the clean water.  I've seen you in the way the trees reach in to shield me from the rain and pull back to expose me to the sun.  I've seen you in the health and vitality of every animal and plant in a half mile radius.  I've seen you in the way the ivy covers this shrine, accenting the artwork and never obscuring it.  It's beautiful."

There was another long silence.  The leaves were completely still.

"My name is Arrin.", she said.  Then, after a while, "Hello."

The sun continued to beat down on the glade, casting the entire scene in mottled green.  Arrin held her breath, as if not wanting to break some fragile spell.

The voice came from behind her, small and tentative.  "You noticed the ivy."

Arrin did not turn.  "How could I not?  The way the branches follow the natural contours of the images, the way the leaves frame the faces... you even used different species for coloration.  I'm sure the original artists would be honoured."

The leaves resumed their normal rustling.  The dryad smiled.  "My name is Shora."

Arrin turned and smiled in return.  The nature spirit appeared in the form of a female biped, with smooth brown skin and a head crowned with holly oak leaves.  Her face bore the same slanted eyes and ears that Arrin possessed, and her lean frame was bare and unadorned.

The two ladies stood quiet for a moment, squinting at each other.

"It's not polite to try to charm me.", Shora said.

"You started it."

"Yours is stronger."

"I'll take that as a compliment.  So you're charmed, then?"

The dryad pointed.  "You're bleeding."

"Ah."  The lillend looked at the cuts on her arm and tail, as if noticing them for the first time.  "Indeed I am.  Bear with me one moment."

She cleared her throat and hummed for a few bars in A flat, then spread her arms wide and belted out a loud and joyous song in Celestial.  As she sang, a subtle golden light cascaded around her body, and the open slashes clotted, sealed, and vanished, leaving only smooth skin behind.  As the verse came to a climax, the lillend extended her fingers to the sky, then lowered her arms and relaxed.  She hummed the same few bars in closing.

"That was gorgeous.", Shora whispered as the light faded, staring with rapt attention, "What was it?"

"Well, in musical terms, it was Allilla té Miadorna, the love song Bronogand sings to Miadorna to proclaim his undying affection at the end of Sòro dé Almò Puendes.  In arcane terms, it was a few Cure Light Wounds spells back to back.  That's one of the few spells I can cast without my components pouch."

"Your components pouch... leather thing you left by the elm with the forked branches?"  The dryad started looking around, her finger tapping on her chin as though she was lost in thought.

"Yes, but I don't-"

Shora stepped into a nearby tree trunk, vanishing smoothly into the bark, and returned a moment later with an intricately stitched leather satchel clasped in one hand.  Arrin smiled and stretched out her hands.

"Yes, that's it."  She retrieved a waterskin from the bag and quenched her own thirst before moving to the shrine and rinsing the taint of wererat urine from the mouth of the carved statue.  "I wish I knew Mending.", Arrin sighed, "I'd be able to restore the paint that-", she gestured at empty grass.

The rapier, dagger, and silver knife stuck in the soil, surrounded only by vegetation.  There was no sign of the lycanthrope.  Arrin turned quizzically to Shora, who shrugged and grinned.

"I can be fast when I want."

Arrin slithered over and picked up the silver knife, looking it over properly for the first time.  Whatever silent process had eliminated the dead wererat had also cleaned the blood from its blade, leaving it a perfect mirror.  Arrin marvelled at the craftsmanship.  She hadn't noticed the sapphires or the precise filigree in the hilt while the thing was a weapon.

"It was in his bag."  The voice came from over her shoulder, very close.  "Somehow I doubt he bought it."  A hand lingered against her alula, gently stroking the iridescent feathers.  Arrin, again, held very still, not wanting to startle the reclusive dryad with sudden movements.  She pretended her attention was still on the knife.

"Is it magic?"

"I really don't know.  I think it's just silver.  Everyone knows that silver hurts werewolves, but I wasn't sure about wererats."

"Oh."  Arrin wrapped the knife in a piece of parchment and stowed it in her satchel.  "I didn't even know that.  I'm... I'm not from around here."

"I know."  The hand rustled down through her coverts and pinions, sending an involuntary shiver down Arrin's spine.  "I've been... I've been watching you.  For um... for a while.  You look like a seed that's been moved from miles away, planted in the wrong climate, the wrong soil."

There was an awkward pause.  Arrin sighed, and drooped her head.  "You're right.", she admitted, "Everything's so strange here, so many things are... wrong.  Just off, somehow, unsettling.  I haven't exactly been able to make a lot of friends."

The dryad came around and embraced her, arms firm like polished rods.  Arrin froze, startled by the capricious tree spirit's sudden intimacy, then slowly returned the hug.  She moved her wings around like a circular curtain to surround them.  She brushed her cheek against the tender green leaves that grew from the dryad's scalp.  The breasts that poked into Arrin's midriff were surprisingly solid.

"Am I unsettling?"

Arrin shook her head. "No.  I can... I can sense the good in you, Shora.  I've sort of been sensing it all along.  It sounds strange, I've never met anyone like you before, but I can tell you're... you feel right.  You feel like home."

"So I can be your friend?"

Arrin smiled.  "Yes, Shora.  I think I'd like that."

Shora's arms came up and encircled Arrin's neck, pulling her closer.  The dryad's mouth came up next to the lillend's pointed ear, and breath tickled at her feathers as the nature spirit whispered.

"You know, I've never had a friend who could fly before."

Taking the hint, Arrin grabbed onto Shora's wooden posterior and drew her tail into a tight coil.  Shora squealed happily and jumped up, hooking her knees around Arrin's waist.  Like an explosion, they shot into the sky, corkscrewing in midair.  Arrin flapped once, then allowed herself to fall backwards, dropping into a glide just above the treetops.

Shora's fingers gripped like chopsticks into the feathers on Arrin's head.  She stretched her neck back, allowing her leaf hair to dance upside down in the breeze.  "Faster, faster!", she yelled, wriggling excitedly.  Arrin executed a few loops, her tail tracing rainbow circles after them.  She shot down into the river gully and followed it, dipping close enough to the lazy brook to get Shora's hair wet.  She shot up into the blue, higher and higher, seeing the entire forest spread out below them like a map.

"Ow!", Shora exclaimed, and her body tensed up.  "Too high, too high!  Quick, back down, back down!  Ow!"

Hurriedly, Arrin dove back down, circled slowly for a few moments, then landed in a soft meadow of wildflowers.  Shora dismounted, and crouched for a second, holding her belly and wincing, breathing through her teeth.  Arrin, disconcerted, circled her new friend, trying to get in close, biting her lip in agitation.  After a few seconds, Shora straightened up again, and began breathing normally.

"Whew... I... I think I'm okay.  I should be okay.  It was only for a few seconds."

"What happened?  Air pressure?  Did your ears pop?"

"No, no, I can't move too far from my tree.  I'm sorry, I should have mentioned that." She swayed, and Arrin offered her hand for balance.  "Whoo, getting dizzy.  I think I need to sit down."

Arrin swung around and formed a shallow curve with her tail.  Shora gingerly descended to the ground and rested against the snake coils, running her hands back and forth through the stems of the flowers.  She closed her eyes and took deep breaths.  The sun beat down on them from the cloudless sky.  They had no shadows.

Arrin, not knowing what to do, remained still, slowly breathing in sync with the dryad.  She drew her torso in close, and rested a hand on Shora's wooden shoulder.  Shora smiled and leaned back.  Arrin's fingertips ran lightly over the back of her neck, then up into the stems along her scalp, rustling through the holly oak leaves.

"Mmm", Shora sighed, "That feels nice."

Arrin moved in behind Shora, forming a pillow with her body, cupping the dryad's head in both hands.  Softly, she stroked the long tips of Shora's ears, marvelling at how her body could be so hard and yet so yielding.  Her hands wandered down alongside the dryad's neck, caressing the smoothness of her clavicle.

Shora raised her hands and swept them through the air, as though conducting a symphony.  At first, Arrin couldn't see what she was doing.  It was the sound that caught her attention.  All the wildflowers of the meadow were raising and lowering their blossoms on cue.  Shora gestured with her left hand, and violets opened in a wave, like purple paint following a paintbrush.  She gestured with her right, and buttercups in contrasting yellow rippled throughout in circular patterns.  Arrin was spellbound.

"It's beautiful.", she gasped, "A living painting!"

Shora grinned widely and lay her head back on Arrin's chest, looking up.

"What can I say?  You inspire me."

Arrin continued massaging Shora's shoulders, and the flowers danced for them.  The lillend began singing again, this time a slower, more relaxed tune in C.  Shora began conducting the flowers in time to the music, suppressing and swelling them rhythmically with the rise and fall of the melody.  The song gradually peaked and drew to a close, and the flowers gave one last swirl of colour and bowed.  Shora sat up and put her hands on her knees.

"I'm definitely feeling a lot better now."

"I'm glad to hear it."

The dryad stood and hopped over the coil of Arrin's tail.  She stood behind the lillend and pressed against her back.

"Your turn?"

"My turn to what?"

"You... do you want a massage?"

"Oh!  Oh, yes, yes please."

Arrin placed her components pouch to one side and descended to the flowers, which clustered to cushion her.  She spread her rainbow wings as far as they would go, soaking up the sun's warmth.  Shora straddled her, splaying her brown fingers along the long stretch of soft skin that comprised Arrin's back.  Her hands fussed with the clasp of the lillend's garment.

"It'd be a lot easier", she suggested, "if I removed this top.  You don't mind, do you?"

Arrin simply exhaled and relaxed.  Shora undid the series of ornate clasps that held the clothing in place around the wings, and flicked it off Arrin's shoulders.  She kneaded her knuckles into pink flesh, stretching and rubbing the large flight muscles on the second set of shoulders.  The feathered tip of Arrin's tail flicked in the summer air as her reptilian scales absorbed the sun's life-giving rays.

Shora bent forward, and the tips of her leaves brushed lightly over the surface of Arrin's skin.  She put her weight on her palms, and Arrin gasped as her vertebrae made a loud popping sound.  Shora worked her way up, cracking the joints and smoothing the muscle, releasing tension Arrin didn't know she had.  Shora pressed in close until she was almost lying forward, and lowered her head.  She kissed the back of Arrin's neck, the faintest touch of warm wood to skin.

Arrin raised herself up on one elbow, twisting in place.  Shora drew back, bringing her hands self-consciously to her mouth.

"I'm sorry," she said, quivering slightly, "I just... dryads don't really have any males to speak of, and I thought... I thought you were kind of hinting that..."

"It's alright.", Arrin said.  She pulled in her wings and used her muscular tail to rotate her body under Shora's thighs, facing her.  "Lillends don't have a whole lot of males to speak of either.  I mean, we do, but they're not very common, and a lot of us will... well, what I'm saying is I know about... and I mean, I guess I do want to... if you..."  She let her words trail off as she rested her hands against the dryad's wooden hips.  Slowly, hesitantly, Shora descended again, greenery cascading down around their heads.  Their lips met gently, at first.

"Mm.", Shora said as they parted,"Yes, I... I definitely want to as well."

"You don't think it's too fast?"

"If anything, I've been too slow.  I should have spoken to you sooner, but I was afraid.  I don't know why."  Shora inclined her head, changing the pattern of shadow that fell on Arrin's face.  "Besides, too fast is what Charm Person is for, isn't it?"

"I didn't think it'd work on nature spirits."

"Oh, it doesn't.  But you're a really good kisser, and that's pretty much the same thing."

Arrin laughed.  Shora smiled, and waited until Arrin was finished laughing.

They kissed again.  Arrin closed her eyes and inhaled sharply through her nose.  Shora's smell was the smell of the world around them, sweet and subtle with a million flowers.  Her lips, like the rest of her body, were rigid like wood, but yielded to the touch with the unmistakable suppleness of flesh.  Shora's right hand rested on her chest, her left hand curved up behind her neck, fingers in the feathers, pulling their heads together.

Arrin allowed her tongue to glide into Shora's mouth.  It was a pleasant taste, like dew collected on leaves.  Shora moved her head down, kissing the side of Arrin's neck.  Arrin's hands moved up Shora's sides, caressing the sunwarmed contours.  Shora was kissing lower now, a few touches along the chest before her tongue, surprisingly green, flicked out and teased a nipple.

Arrin moaned and gyrated her hips, her long tail writhing behind them.  Shora smiled up at her, her slanted amber eyes locked contact with the lillend.  Arrin's fingers moved through the leaves, holding Shora's head in place.  Shora retracted her tongue and pursed her lips, raising one mossgreen eyebrow mischeviously.  Arrin laughed and shook the dryad's head back and forth vigorously.

Shora's hand was down by her thighs, moving back and forth against Arrin's lower abdomen, pushing and probing at the place where her skin merged into multicoloured scales.  Arrin bit her lip and shook her head, pointing back behind them.  Just as Shora was turning to look, the feathered tip of Arrin's tail shot up under the dryad's buttocks.  Shora whooped with surprise as the tail passed under her body, curling around her torso, curving up over one shoulder.

Arrin was sitting up now, taller than the dryad, kissing downwards.  Her wings were an aurora around them, her hands danced over the nature spirit's breasts, her tail helixed around the lithe brown body.  Shora tensed her thighs and bucked with her hips, rubbing herself against the loop of the lillend's tail.  Her wooden hand, confident now, moved in between them, finding the small opening in the middle of the scales and exploring its softness.

Their lips met again and did not part.  A single oaken digit slipped into Arrin's body, smooth and straight.  Arrin moaned loudly, unable to form words with her tongue occupied.  The finger moved back and forth with a deliberate tortuous slowness.  The lillend was breathing heavily, her tail wrapping and unwrapping itself rapidly over Shora's body, her wings shaking and shimmering in the light.  Arrin's arms were doing the same thing as her tail, moving rapidly, twisting and untwisting, gripping the shoulders, the head, the buttocks, the feet.

Shora squeezed with her knees and began moving more rapidly, thrusting from the elbow.  Arrin thrashed beneath her, lifting her off the ground.  She was moaning loudly now, desperate, her tongue as frantic and rapid as her tail.  With a shuddering gasp, she threw her shoulders back.  Shivers rippled throughout the curtain of feathers, and the tail squeezed tight for a moment before relaxing completely.

The dryad smiled, kissing gently at Arrin's breasts as the loop of tail lowered her back to the flowers.

"Good?", she asked.  Arrin nodded.

They kissed a few more times, short and staccato.  Arrin picked Shora up by the waist, swept her down into the blossoms, laid her out among a blanket of multicoloured petals.  Shora's smile radiated sweet anticipation.  She swept her hands through the flowers, giggling softly.

Arrin curved over her like an arch, her feathers a canopy overhead.  She kissed in patterns, marking a sinuous line down Shora's body, leading inexorably to her center.  Shora already had her legs apart, her knees up, her feet planted, her toes wriggling in the earth.

Arrin closed her eyes as she began tasting her lover.  The labia were surprising thin and delicate, and they opened to her long tongue like a blossom in spring.  The taste was sweet like honey, but muted and subtle.  As Arrin's tongue continued moving inward, she was surprised to find more petals inside, each smaller and softer than the last.  She took her time, tasting each pair in turn.

Shora was silent in her ecstasy, her only sound a deep inhalation and exhalation through her nose.   She spread her fingers through Arrin's feathers, splaying over her head.  Arrin could feel the faint touches of the organisms around her, heard the rustling of a thousand leaves rising and falling in time with Shora's slow breath.

Taking her cue from the noises, Arrin slowed her pace, lingering on a pair of petals the size of apple blossoms.  When these finally parted, Arrin was surprised to find no orifice, but a tiny nub like a misplaced clitoris.  As her tongue touched this, Shora stiffened, gripped her tighter.  Her breath was still slow, but harder now, more insistent, like a strong wind.  The rhythmic rustling of the leaves around her was louder as well, it seemed to be coming from everywhere at once.

Arrin circled the pistil with her tongue, carefully.  She reached up with her arms and caressed Shora's torso as she worked, running her fingertips over her nipples.  The slow breathing grew louder and louder, echoing around them in every leaf, stem, and branch within earshot.  Arrin had the sense of being within a single creature, a life force that encompassed all of nature.  She licked the surface of the pistil rapidly now, trying instinctively to wrap her tongue around it, cover it completely.

The breathing reached a crescendo, and jolted to a momentary stop.  Shora's body shook slightly.  Arrin stopped moving, uncertain.  When Shora began breathing again, the sound was a sigh, quiet and contented.  Arrin withdrew slowly, licked the moisture from her lips, and moved around to cradle the dryad in her bed of flowers.

Shora raised a single hand and brushed Arrin's cheek tenderly.  Arrin kissed her forehead and snuggled in close without saying a word.  Around them, the plant life resumed its normal function, rerooting in its place and stretching up once more to receive the sun's glory.

"Arrin.", Shora whispered, simply to hear the sound of the name.  Arrin responded only by holding her tighter, quiet and still in the petals.  The sun shone and the forest was silent.

Arrin nestled her face into the dryad's leafy hair.  "You know, I... I can't stay.  This place, this world... it's not my home.  It can't be."

The silence became bittersweet.  Shora clung to Arrin as though she hadn't heard.

"I'd like to - I mean, this world is very beautiful, and you - I mean you're so beautiful, I never expected.  But it's just... I need my own people.  I can't stay here, Shora, you know I'm going to go back eventually."

"I know.", Shora acquiesced, speaking quietly into Arrin's chest.  "But you don't have to go today, do you?"

"No." Arrin said.  "I don't have to go today."

"Then I can be happy."

Arrin covered them with one wing, and kissed the top of Shora's head.  Flowers framed them in concentric circles, all stretching upwards.  Somewhere in the distance, the trees rustled in a subtle rhythm.

It was not a perfect scene.  But it was enough.