The night after

Shandalar groans in her sleep as a pounding headache does it's best to prod her awake, the bright almost searing light of the sun leaving her cringing away from it despite her closed eyes and the usually beautiful songs of the forest's birds seems to take on a shrill tone the longer they sing. The oddity of such things is enough to prod her into to full wakefulness as she forces herself up, regardless of just how much she wants to wrap herself up in her soft wings and coils, ignoring the world till the pain goes away.

The woman winces when her gaze drifts too close too the sunrise before blocking it's light with a single, silvery wing as she pulls herself to her full height and looks around squinting. The woman, for that is what she is despite the long, sinuous tail adorned with scales of emerald and copper where her legs should be, is clad in nothing but sunlight as she begins to wander through the empty camp, trying to piece together the blur of sights, sounds, and sensations from the night before. One might, if they observed her from a distance, mistake her for an elf, for between her light, wheat colored hair, olive, sunkissed skin, and lithe form, adorned with smooth curves and just a hint of muscles, she looks almost like an idealized example of the silvan race, if not for the serpentine tail and massive, silvery wings, but to those more familiar with the inhabitants of the planes it's obvious what she is, a lillend. And one oddly enough, that seems to be hungover.

Shandalar's progress through the camp is slow, her body feeling oddly bloated and each movement sending a wave of nausea as she pokes through the mess of a campsite. At least the cool morning air caressing her skin provides some relief, and with it growing clarity as she tries to piece together just what happened last night, there are signs of revelry but... Her thoughts are interrupted as her stomach lurches and with a loud "Urp!" a blast of mist escapes from between her lips. She looks around embarrassed for a moment, but is at least relived to find most of the nausea is gone now. Enough, that she's finally able to focus her thoughts.

"There were ...adventurers" She recalls aloud, furring her brow in thought, picking up a familiar looking pouch as memories from a few days ago begin reforming, of how she met a pair of humans and learned they were hunting down the same group of orcs despoiling the nearby forests she was. "Oh! Right, the orcs! We slew their chief and the orcs fled, that explains the festivities!" she remembers with a smile. One that grows bigger when she as she unlatches the pouch and finds it's the young mage's, Sebil if she recalls correctly, spell component pouch.

Plucking a few items out she idly nibbles on it's contents, headache finally starting to fade with something material in her stomach as she smiles a bit mischievously, recalling how she'd tease him about it being a snack pouch. Though she soon finds herself wondering why would he leave it, he had it on him when... when... Dasia, the tall, muscular human woman he was with seemed appalled that she ;earned Shandalar couldn't in the human's own words, "properly enjoy wine" and asked Sebil if he had anything that could let her get drunk. After that there was that sickly sweet potion then a few cups of... "Oh, oooh" Shandalar mutters, piecing together all her symptoms.

After that events come crashing back to her, it's still a blur but the lillend remembers the game Dasia suggested with cup after cup of wine to see who gives in first, of the OTHER game the amazon suggested to the mage's embarrassment, once it became apparent neither of them would fall before the other, and of how shortly after, Dasia was laid out on the ground before her, clad in no more than Shandalar herself as she lapped up the sweat and spilled wine off the human's chiseled abs. Her face started to heat up as she recalled how she drifted lower and lower with each lap, until her forked tongue tasted the nectar of Dasia's folds, the warrior guiding her along, shouting out commands and encouragements as Sebil looked on in awe.

SOMEHOW the young man ended up in her coils as the night progressed, his cock being rubbed between her scales as they writhed against his bare skin, her lips pressing hungrily into his and him returning the favor. The taste of Dasia shared between them like the breath from her lungs for the few moments before she'd squeeze it out of him and then the whole cycle would repeat itself. She remembered his gasps, whimpers, and moans, his pleads to not stop even as his vision began to waver, of how in her hunger for more she gave him one last kiss and opened her jaw and... and...

The pouch falls from her hands as Shandalar recalls what happened next, of his delicious taste as she took his head into her maw, of the way his weak squirms felt so wonderful as his small frame slid down her throat, feeling even better once he filled up her stomach, yet... it just wasn't enough. She remembers how she came to a passed out Dasia, of how she caressed her sculpted body, her lips once more dancing across the amazon's body, traveling up her chest this time, tongue giving her nipples a flick or three before she coaxed the waking woman into her mouth as well, the salt from her naked, exhausted body dancing across her tongue as gulp by gulp she sent her down to meet Sebil.

Her heart flutters with an odd, conflicting set of emotions as she reminiscences on how GOOD it felt to have the two writhe within her, soothed somewhat, simply due to the fact that the two weren't trying to escape, oh no, perhaps they were too far gone to realize their situation, but regardless she could clearly remember through the haze how they're bodies were pressing together, grinding against one another, and only some of it was due to the motions of her stomach, the two simply ...enjoying themselves together in their last moment. And she? She just continued her feast, greedily gulping down the last of the wine, the deer they hunted together the day before, the duo's entire ration supply, and a good chunk of their gear come to think of it before she finally passed out where he lay.

Snorting at the absurdity of such an image, Shandalar finds herself idly prodding her tail, even though she knows there's nothing left in it by this time. Although, it does look a bit thicker now... as do her hips now that she's bothered to check. Her chest though, yeah, they're definitely bigger she realizes as she hefts her breasts in her hands, where before they were just a handful, they're now large enough to spill out. Maybe...something else of them remains? She wonders, giving her chest one last squeeze before closing her eyes and looking inward. It's faint, very faint, but she can feel two wisps of not quite her, not yet at least, but they will be in time. Opening her eyes once more Shandalar shakes her head with a bitter sweet smile, glad they'll stick around for the time being at least before slithering off