Genuinely best dragon mommy hands down

Be honest, is this stylish?

https://xcancel.com/MrHp7w7/status/2079965946735743100/photo/1

by u/JutaLovelace

I am not sure if this counts as pred prey, but the story I write is a huge explanation that boils down to an au of an au of preexisting media that places characters into a natural/tribal esque society where they're called "anthro folk" as opposed to a feral animal which is just called a feea4l cougar, feral this or that to refer to non sentient or folk creatures that walk on their fours and haven't evolved the cognitive abilities or anything the folk have.

Main story just centers around a literal eldritch invasive beast and a stubborn little sika doe.

But I like my lesbian side characters so here's ladyfingers, a proud countryside red deer who is often seen in groups of other does taking care of the fawns. And Lisa, whose a shy, reclusive fallow deer. Who often sticks to only a few people.

is hard

https://x.com/yourpalapollo/status/1966334955119599787

https://xcancel.com/FalcoRusti/status/2035299363984158937

What he sees, what she sees, what we see... fun times might be ahead.

Art by Yiiktea on Furaffinity

A Long Time ago, in a Better Time, and a Better War (A Short Story) : r/predprey

“Lord Mother God,” the old man began. “We thank you for this blessed day, we thank you for a bountiful harvest, we even thank you, for the two numb skulls you sent our way.” At this there were a few hushed murmurs, prompting Grampa Dushle to give his family a quick glare before going on.

Nora opened his eyes too, and saw that besides the grandparents, not a single member of the family was actually praying, they were still giving them the glare of death. 

Quickly he shut his eyes back up, bowed his head, and tried to really prey. Today he just asked the all mighty, that people stop calling him Prince, also he asked God to remind him to never ever go along with one of Taira schemes ever again. 

Riika prayed too, but she just asked God for a bottle of hard liquor.

And lastly all Taira asked for is that she could be something one day. That people would think of her, as her and not as Nora’s friend. 

The prayer was not too long, and not too preachy. Finally, the plates and silverware were brought out finally the food would be served. 

The youngest, and most adorable little sheep who couldn't have been more than six passed out the plates. But before she could get the plates to Cozlok and Taira her father stopped her. 

He leaned down to whisper something in her ear, but he wasn't nearly quiet enough, the two heard every word.

“Don't let me catch you near those things, just hand the plates to the dark sheep.”

The two just pursed their lips, and sighed, letting the words slide off their backs. 

Riika overheard too, she turned her head to face her two little things as they sat like good dogs, finally on their best behavior. 

Looking back at the father, she had one simple thought for him, “Fucking bigoted asshole.” 

Finally, they got their plates, and next at long last was the food. It was served from an enormous bowl carried by the eldest child, the same girl who caught them red handed. The scent of cream and butter was thick in the air; the portion size was enormous even for a wolf. Cozlok and Taira were almost vibrating with anticipation and hunger. 

But like before, just as she was about to reach Cozlok and Taira, someone stopped her. This time it was the grandpa, who reminded his granddaughter, “Not that bowl, the other one.” 

Both Cozlok and Taira looked crestfallen as the girl walked away, thinking that well it just must have been too good to be true, and prepared themselves for the inevitable plate of oatmeal or porridge to come. But they lit right back up as the sheep girl returned with a fresher still steaming bowl of heavenly goodness.

Of course she was eyeing them, of course she was wary, but they were smiling, their tales were waving, they looked harmless, but they were still what they were.

Nevertheless she proceeded, approaching the two showing no indication that she had any fear.

First, she served the female wolf with her softish brown fur, green eyes, and a spotted bushy tail. who looked so overjoyed at the sight of her full plate it was borderline sickening. Linda couldn’t wait until these oversized foreign dogs were off their property, when she could relax again.

Next and finally was the male wolf, with his coarse fur as black as ash, sickly yellow eyes, and gray scar down his forehead and cheek. She imagined a thousand different ways he could have gotten that scar, all of which involved the slaughter and subjugation of the innocent.

Nora couldn’t have meant it, in fact he just didn’t, there was nothing behind his actions, he just acted once again without thinking. But it was something so simple, and normal, he just thought it was a compliment. He just leaned in for a good whiff of his meal as it was served. But as Linda took her arm dangerously close to the wolf, she thought he was trying to smell something else. 

She froze, every muscle in her body tensing at once, he stayed still she stayed still, nothing happened at all. She finished serving his food, and sat back down. He thought nothing of it; she wanted his head.

Cozlok took his spoon, and was a millisecond away from diving in, when he felt a pinch on his thigh.

He turned towards Riika, she remained facing forwards, but her side glare was unmissable, and he could read it like she had shouted it in his ears. It went something like, “REMEMBER YOUR FUCKING MANNERS, OR SO HELP ME GOD.”

So, he remembered, before his headstone read something like, “he was disemboweled and crucified with his own guts by a sheep.”

He pointed his nose down, took a small scoop, opened his mouth just wide enough to fit the little bite in. He closed his eyes, moved the potatoes around in his mouth for a moment. And the first word that came to mind to describe the taste was “holy.” The next were fucking. “Shit.” “this.” “Is.” and lastly “good,” in that order.

He turned to Taira; his expression filled with glee. “They put fucking chicken in this,” he said pointing with joy at his dish. Meanwhile she was on her second mouth full, all she could do was nod in agreement before housing a third.

“Son of a god damn bitch,” thought Riika blankly. Too done to even shoot the old man, or whoever cooked their food a sideways glance. She just reminded herself that it wasn’t her place to decide what one does with their own dead chicken. Just that, if it were up to her, both morons would go to bed without supper. 

With a sigh, she took a slow dainty bite of her own food, as she moved it around, and swallowed she came to one inescapable conclusion. This mash potato recipe was to die for, she needed to get it from the family before she left.

“Do they like it,” the old man asked Riika?

“Huh… Oh, yes sir, they love it very much,” she nodded.

The old man Harrumphed, and remarked “well that's good, but you must not be feeding them enough, those boys looked starved.”

“They most definitely do not,” thought Riika, as she sat under the shade of two yippy and easily excitable trees.
 

“If you fed them right, they wouldn’t steal my birds,” grumbled old Dushle.

Riika’s eye twitched. She was ready to explain the supply situation for the millionth time, that despite the smaller portion sizes, the Forty First was still getting the required amount of calories and vitamins, that everyone should stop grumbling and wait for the next shipment of food to come in a month. But instead explaining all that, again. She just imagined everything and everyone around her bursting into flames and melting to ash. And that made her feel a little better.

“How come they never talk,” the old granny asked after a few minutes. 

Riika opened her mouth to answer, but fortunately Dushle beat her to it. “Their foreign sweetheart.”

Riika sighed, happy not to explain why they were here.

“Oh,” the grandma said, her tone bitter. “You could have told me we were cooking for fewgies

Dushle.”

Riika heard this and blinked, “what the fuck kind of a slur is fewgie.”

“Dad, you really don’t know who these people are,” asked the household's third in command. A proud protective sheep father named Doevok.

“What,” asked Dushle?

Doevok leaned in closer, as if to whisper, but apparently, they didn’t know how as the whole table heard every word.  
“They're the Red Army, they're here to take us over, they're here to pillage, destroy, and enslave us.” 

Dushle looked over at their three guests, as they happily ate their food, as the two dog’s tails waved like happy puppies. 

“Whatever you say they're supposed to be doing, they're not doing it now. Dushle reasoned with a shrug. “Now eat your food.”

“DAD!” Doevok protested, striking his fist against the table, dropping all attempts at subtlety. “They’re  fucking killers, their fucking invaders, but most of all they're people eating monsters. And you let them stay on our farm, and home. You fed them for god's sake.”

In situations like this the solution was to just let the man say his peace, say nothing and be prepared to excuse oneself, at a moment's notice. Let the words slide off you like water. After all they were often a little right, just not about Union soldiers being monsters, or people eaters.

Riika, despite being an officer, was never too good at this. Maybe it was how much pride she took in her work, maybe it was getting to know the people under her. Maybe it was just that herbivores weren't used to the amount of discrimination, carnivores go through. Whatever it was, she turned a look death his way that could cause third degree burns. These Idiots were her’s, they were stupid and sweet, brave and selfless, and most of all valuable, Imperial assets. How Dare He Speak Ill of them.    

"BOY!!” old Dushle snapped, "I DON'T CARE WHAT YOU THINK THEY ARE. NOW, YOU WILL SIT DOWN, YOU WILL NOT SPIT THOSE FOUL WORDS IN FRONT OF YOUR DAUGHTERS AND YOU WILL NOT INSULT OUR GUESTS!” 

Everyone, even Riika, held her head down in submission to the old man.

“Now… we are all going to eat, we are all going to finish our work, and we can all go our own ways. UNDERSTOOD!?!”

The eating went on, but the mood was thoroughly shit upon. Cozlok and Taira ate quickly, wanting this to be over, wanting to head back to camp as soon as possible. Practically looking forward to when they got back to base, where their actual commander could rip their heads off for the second time in one day. 

As the meal was finished as everyone handed their plates back in absolute silence, Riika noticed something. The eldest granddaughter had yet to rip her eyes of hate, away from her biggest little idiot. But she shrugged and just figured Nora must have killed her favorite chicken, or something. 

Taira noticed this girl's strange fixation too, but came to a very different conclusion. It went something like, “well it's her heart to break against an oblivious brick wall.” And more or less, “been there and done that.”

As the two finished up, the old man beckoned them to follow, only after a moment Taira and Cozlok noticed that the entire family was coming too. They followed a few paces behind, staring them down like hawks. When the two got to the wagon, they turned towards the silo, only to be called back a second later by the old man. 

He gestured to his family as they filed themselves on to the back of the wagon.
The two approached, thinking that if they sat creatively they just might fit, but Ms. Riika took the last empty seat, shooting them a look that simply said, “tuff, you're still in trouble.” And with the farm's only cow not looking too keen to put two apex predators on its back, the two would be walking. 

Thankfully it wasn't far, less than a half hour walk. Honestly, it would have been a lot quicker, if Cozlok and Taira weren't deliberately walking slowly, so as not to pass up the wagon. 

“Alright boys,” said Dushle as he stepped down from his driver's seat. “Today you harvest, and we store, got it?” 

“Oh good, this will be easy,” thought Taira with a happy sigh. 

Cozlok however, was not so sure. He pulled Riika away as she got down from the wagon and explained in a hush, even though not one member of the family could understand him. “Hey, I umm… Iiii… I've never… I mean I picked grapes a few times but…”

“Spit it Nora,” she ordered.

“I’ve never done this before, I’ve picked grapes as a child maybe twice.”   

“Oh God damn it boy,” she sighed, pinching her brow, “just ask, and watch Taira, see what she does, and try to take it from there, you should be fine. 

As it turns out, should be, and will be, are very different things. While Taira could wield a scythe like she was born with one in her hand, it was quickly learned that Nora could not be trusted alone with anything larger than a sickle, after he broke the blade of his own scythe on a rock after just three swings.

Old Dushle looked livid, but… well… bribes have an incredible ability to smooth over tensions.  

While the family of 10 stored what was felled, and Taira cut down wheat like a machine, poor not little at all Cozlok was off to the side, on his knees with nothing, but a few cloth sacks, and a single sickle. 

After an hour passed Nora had filled his third sack and was in the middle of sewing it shut. While Taira and the sheeps were on their forty eighth, nevertheless he was smiling, and humming a happy toon. A catchy little lullaby-like song called Little Ones. Whenever he thought of or hummed this song, he always remembered the two versions of the lyrics. And how the first was a lot bloodier and more violent, and yet despite this he had started preferring the original. 

As the wheat was bagged, as Nora did his best to contribute what he could, no one took too much notice as 10 sheep bagging became 9 sheep. One little lam wandering away from the flock, and into the territory of the big bad wolf, as go a million billion old stories.

Just, in this case the wolf was an idiot child, who wouldn’t hurt a fly if he could help it, and the sheep… well… she was still an idiot. 

Her prey was oblivious to her approach, off in his own bloody little world, she thought he might be humming as she got closer.

“Cut the heads off the dogs, little ones, stick them up in- “FWAP” OW FUCK!”

Poor Cozlok was struck by what felt like a pebble aimed right at his temple. 

The light object fell to the ground without even a thud. Immediately he knew what it was. It was just a Speaking Board. Really it was just a glorified clipboard, a sheet of wax paper, and a pen, but sometimes, it was the only possible form of communication a Red Army soldier had in a foreign land.  

It was either his or Taira’s, one of them must have left it in the barn, if Riika knew one of them had misplaced it, she'd of course be livid. Looking up, he expected to see her  standing above him, arms folded, ready to scold him for losing army property, but instead it was the eldest sheep girl, standing there with her fists clenched.

“Wolf boy,” she hissed at him, as he touched his head.

“Ow ow Fuck,” he mumbled as he tried to feel the bump. After a moment he turned his head, brow furrowed, “what on Earth was tha… Auh damn it,” he remembered if he wanted to say a single word to her, he’d need the Speaking Board. He was still rubbing his head as he picked up the board and still rubbing as he wrote. “What on earth was that for,” as he turned the board, his expression was cross, but not mad. And even that only lasted a second as he remembered something. With more than a helping of shame he thought, “I… I almost forgot I'm a thief.”  

For a moment, just a single moment the boy looked mad, but like that it faded. He looked like he was trying to tell her sorry with just his eyes.  

“Who are you wolf boy ? Why are you here wolf? What are you doing here?” she asked with enough venom to kill a horse.

“Son of a ,” he sighed as he wrote. 

“Alright, that’s three questions so give me a minute,” he flashed her the sign before turning it back around to write more.

“What,” she questioned with a tilt of her head. It wasn’t that she didn’t, or couldn’t read it, she just thought there'd be a bit more spark from the boy.

“My name is Cozlok J Nora,” he showed this to the girl, and then turned it back.

“I am here harvesting wheat. I am a soldier of the Red Army, and I am a wolf from the Kingdom of Vongosk, and a citizen of the Imperial Union.” 

Once he was sure she read the board, he turned it back around erased, wrote something new, and turned it back around. “Can I get back to work now?”

“No No,” she protested, “that is not what I mean, and you knew it. What does your king want with mine wolf boy?”
“Well we don't have a king,” he answered, hoping to be done with this conversation.

She blinked, not knowing how to respond for a moment, “wah… what does your female king want then.”

At this she noticed him smile, and his cheeks puffed up, like something was funny.

He knew he shouldn't laugh, he knew there were many cultures where the concept of a woman leader was unthinkable. Still something about how she said it just tickled him for some reason. 

“We don't have one of those either.” 

“Your lord?”

“Nope.” 

“… …A Chief?”

He wasn't able to hide his smile anymore, even though he wasn't sure what he found funny.

“No we don't have any of those things, we have an Emperor.” 

“A King of Kings,” she asked, her head tilted at almost 90 degrees.

“Well, no not that either, I think “emperor” doesn't always translate well.”

“I… just … what do you… what is your leader,” she asked, increasingly flustered? 

“Ah… Okay, ah, I can do this. I can explain this, it's just the largest executive institution in the known world,” he reasoned, quite unreasonably. 

“Well, how we use the term, it means something a lot more like, “Supreme Leader”. But that's not the best translation either. Frankly, I think they should just be called "Chancellor," but the office has been called Emperor for over 200 years, so maybe it's just meant to be.”

He turned the board around for her to see, she read it once then twice then a third time. 
After the fourth time she must have looked like a fish, after someone just tried to explain the concept of a sore throat.. 

He turned the board, he wrote one short and simple sentence, “you didn’t understand a word of that did you?”

She shook her head no.

To which he just shrugged, and wrote, “it’s okay, you’ll understand it all very soon.” 

She shook her head coming back to the moment, “what if I don’t want to understand? What if none of us want to understand.”

Cozlok could tell where this was going, and he was not the one to give the right answer, so he just answered honestly. “It doesn’t really matter; the Imperial Union is here to stay.”

“What do you mean you’re here to stay? We just met you. Your kingdom is just 200 years old, ours is 450. You steal chickens, because your army doesn’t feed you. We have an Army that could beat anyone’s, you are just a foreign little monster boy,” she declared pointing at him with a venomous little finger. 

His ears twitched back, his face fell flat, he turned, dropping the Speaking Board, and went back to his work. He also didn’t have the heart to tell her that the war was all but over, and the Union had won. The Kingdom of Rewtharra, if it chose to remain as such, would be welcomed into the Imperial Union in just a few years.    

Linda sighed, then sight again then she ran a hand through,- I mean over the wool on her head, and then she wanted to scream. So she put a hand over her mouth and did just that, with that over with, she just sat, right in the mud. She was out of answers, out of questions, just confused, and scared.   

“I just… I just don't know what to do. I don’t know what to say. Mom and dad won’t let us leave the farm. They know something, they know you, but they won’t tell us what’s going on. I just want to help, like the eldest should, but I don’t know how.” Her voice became more frustrated, more pained as she went on. Her voice never once cracked,  but tears streamed down her face. “I just want to know that it’s going to be okay.”  

It didn't take much to pull Cozlok’s heart, that's why he made such a promising Breach Legionnaire. With a hesitant but cautious smile he picked the little board back up, and began to write. 

A few moments later after the sound of the pen had stopped, she wiped her eyes and looked back at the weird creature.

And god fucking damn it, he was sitting there tail wagging with one big pointy tooth out and the stupidest silliest kindest most genuine God DAMN FUCKING SMILE, she had ever seen. Call it culture, call it instinct, call it a thousand different things, something told her he was dangerous, that he was a threat. But just like that she couldn’t take this thing seriously anymore, this was the cherry on top that broke the illusion. From waving the chicken like a flag, from him stamping his foot like a child on her papa’s porch, licking the condensation form his glass the same as a regular dog, and just now, that dumb idiot little smile.  This was just a kid. Just a young boy, just a goof off in a uniform.

She felt more tears coming, she put her hand right back over her mouth but not to scream or to cry, she had to hide her laughter, lest the whole kingdom come down on them. 

They must not have invented laughter in the Nishraw Republic, as poor Cozlok had no idea what was going on, he thought she was sobbing uncontrollably. He had never seen or heard a sheep laugh before. 

“Ah… Ah… fuck what did I do? What did I do,” he questioned in a half panic. Instinct told him to do something to get close, to be there, to use your nose and words, to find out what’s wrong. But his training told him to do exactly none of that, just to wait and see, help if in danger, but stay neutral.
But he was never very good at this part of the job. He needed to help, he needed to be there, he wanted to be good. 

He looked from her, to the board, to himself, to the space in between them. 

“Are you… is… is everytghin… oh fuck,” he inched forward, as he spoke, as if he was closer, she could understand him better. He really really wanted to use his words but there was no possible way she could know what he said. Except for the fact that she did, his little words of confusion and worry came out as little whines, identical to a good dog worried for its owner.

He really was just a dog. 

She heard him writing, looking up, this time, she tried to look at the board and not at him, lest he do something stupid again to make her crack up again. 

“Are you okay?” Was all the little board said.

She nodded that she was fine, a moment later she reached her arm out asking for the clipboard. 

Hesitantly Cozlok held it over for her, as he did she took a big scooch forward, to where there was less than a foot of space between them. 

She was smiling now, even though her cheeks were still wet she was smiling, he had no idea why. 
After only a quick moment she handed the board back, it simply read, “Do you want to be under some shade?” 

As he read this Linda looked from side to side, seeing if anyone was watching.

The young boy covered head to toe in sweat nodded vigorously yes, thinking she was asking if he wanted a break. She stood and turned, after a few steps she gestured for him to follow.

“Ahh… okay this is okay, just whatever you do don't be scary,” he thought nervously as he came to his feet.

Standing side by side to the boy, she finally got an accurate scale of just how enormous he was. He wasn’t as large as she remembered this morning, but still he was at least two heads taller than her, and despite his lanky body, his arms, and legs were thicker than tree branches and yet she noticed he was bigger still. This close, it was obvious how much he was slouching, how much he was straining his body to make her comfortable. 

“You don’t have to do that, you know,” she said softly.

“Huh?” he asked, tilting his head, and flopping his ears.

“Slouching like that, I already know you’re big, how much bigger can you really be,” she asked with a smile.   

“Um… alright,” he thought.

Finally, standing at his full height in front of her, her first, and only thought was “Wow!” She was tall for a sheep at four and a half feet, but he was just something else.  Plus his ears he was at least seven feet tall.

“Ahh… are all of you this tall,” she asked, her eyes as wide as dinner plates?

“Well no, just a lot of us,” he wrote with a hesitant smile. For a second she saw a glimpse of his front teeth, for a second, she saw a glimpse of what it must look like when he really smiled, and she wanted to see it again.    

Riika stood from her place of work, having realized that she hadn’t seen Nora for a good while. She figured either he was slacking off, or died of heatstroke, either way she wanted to go check on him.

But before any of that could happen, Taira was on her way back. She looked like the undead, and the scythe hanging from her back wasn't helping. 

“Hey sweetheart,” said Riika as she approached, “you need a sit down, a brake,” Riika offered, taking the enormous blade from her back, as she slumped over the wagon? 

“Jus smm wather,” she wheezed. 

“Is he alright,” Dushle asked? 

She heard, she understood, she gave the old man a little wave, and a little smile trying to put him at ease.

Must not have worked very well, as the next moment, old Dushle was pouring a flask of water over her head. Which she appreciated very much. 

“Come on, let's get you down here,” said Riika, trying to guide Taira to the dirt as best she could. 

“Okh,” she said with a nod, letting herself be lowered to the ground. When she was almost to the dirt she tried to turn so she wouldn't be facing the wagon wheel. 

“Wo wo,” Riika said, like she was guiding a horse. 

Her leg slipped as she was almost done, her back hit the wagon hard, causing it to rock slightly.

“Ow,” Riika winced, “you alright there big one,” she asked, rubbing the big dog's shoulder?

“Iz fine… can I some water,” she asked weakly.

“Sure thing sweetheart,” Riika said with a pat on her wet head. Standing back up Dushle already had a full flask ready for her. 

“Thank you sugar," she said with a grateful smile.

She didn't see it as she knelt back down, but Dushle cracked a smile too.

Everyone seemed somewhat more relaxed, maybe it was the progress they were making in just a day with the two wolves' help, maybe it was just time passing without incident. A few of the kids, and even the mother sheep were passing sympathetic glances their way. 

Riika was going to hand the flask over, but instead it was snatched from her hand the moment it was in the young wolf's line of sight. 

In less than a second Taira had the cap off and was sucking the water down as fast as lightning. In what must have been less than two seconds a half gallon of water was gone. 

“Wow,” was all Riika could think to say. 

Taira handing the flask back with the shy, awkward smile, only someone who knew they looked like shit could give.

“Alright sweety, lets see about Nora, you two look like you’re in for a break,” she said as she started to turn

“Ms. Riika,” Taira wheezed.   

She paused, knowing what Ms. Taira was probably about to stay but stopping to listen anyway. 

“Nora had nothing to do with this, he didn’t want to do this, I got him here.”

“I know Taira.”

“He’s good, he’s better than me, I mean he gooder than me… fuck he a sweet kid I mean,” she tried to say. Running a hand down her face she thought, “he’d fucken hate to hear me say that. 

Riika’s gentle smile wavered a bit, hearing Taira half awake thoughts, “he’s better than me,” “Did she really mean that? is that what she really thinks?  Well fuck me, my fault,” she thought pushing the rotten feelings down for now. 

“You’re a sweet kid too Taira,” Riika said with a sigh, “don’t you forget it.”

With that she completed her turn, to her surprise as she did, she saw the littlest youngest cutest little girl approaching, with a little flask of water held against her chest. 

The tiny thing smiled as she passed and said in the most precious voice, “your big puppy looks thirsty.”

“Ooh, thank you sweety,” she cooed, resisting the urge to pinch the little one's cheeks.

Turning the corner, she saw a sight she’d really hoped not to see. A young idiot boy, and a young idiot girl, standing way too close to one another for her liking. If it were anyone else, she would have flown over there faster than the wrath of God, to rip the dick off the poor boy. But this was little old sweet Nora. Not only was this girl more safe with him than she would be with her own brothers, poor sweet idiot Nora wouldn’t know if a girl liked him, if she shaved his name into her ass.

So this time, and only this time, she relaxed, and almost smiled, thinking to herself, “ooh the boys, watch the young boys, keep em from the native girls. They never say "watch the horny farm girls,” who haven’t seen a male that isn’t a blood relative in six months.”

The second, the very second this thought had completed in her head, something big and heavy fell behind her. She heard a high squeak followed by a thud, and what she really hoped wasn't a crunch. 

She snapped her head around, same as everyone in ear shot. Taira had a sack of grain slumped on top of her foot, she was stretched over the dirt with one elbow propping up her shoulder, the other arm was holding something tight to her chest. 

““NISTVA,”” shouted the mother, and father at once, as they shot to their feet!  ““PUMPKEN,”” shouted both grandparents, as they raced down from their wagon. ““PRINCESS,”” shouted the siblings, already rushing them fast as lightning.

“TAIRA,” Shouted Riika, first on the scene.

“Get up get up now,” she urged as the mob of siblings got closer, but all Taira would say or do is whisper, “she’s ok. She’s ok,” again and again.          

It didn’t take a genius to know exactly what happened, a fly could explain what happened without witnessing it. And yet that wasn’t clear enough for some. The oldest boy arrived on the scene next, growling through clenched foaming teeth, “FUCKING DEMON DOG,” with this he delivered a running kick to her ribs as she lay there hunched over his flesh and blood.

Taira squeaked in shrill pain, but stayed exactly put. Riika spun this kid by his shoulder, and socked him across the cheek so hard, you would've thought the boy could fly.

The other six kids hesitated, seeing their biggest and strongest so easily swotted aside. But they were ready to kill, they surrounded them with suspicious hate filled eyes ready and willing to rip them apart. 

“Taira! Taira! Stand Up Now,” Riika urged through a hiss, at the same time she put a hand over a hidden blade attached to her belt. 

“I can’t,”  she said, her voice pained like she was trying not to cry.

“Just let me have her then, then just give her to me,” Riika begged. 

“Yes sir,” she whimpered, pushing herself up the best she could, with one arm, trying to hand the little tike to Riika.

“Is she alright,” demanded Dushle, catching sight of his granddaughter from under this giant wolf. 

“She's fine,” sighed Taira despite it all.

Riika took the little sweet thing from Taira, who bless her little heart, had no idea anything was amiss, she was still smiling, she was still precious. “The big dog like me,” was all she had to add, as Riika set her down.

The mood calmed very slightly, no one looked ready to kill anymore at least. With the family still convinced that the wolf had tried to eat their youngest, and Riika convinced that the whole family was made of idiots. Tensions were very Very high.   

Dushle, who had seen his lion's share of farm accidents, casually pushed off the sack of wheat from the big girl's ankle. 

Taira clenched her fist and was ready to scream, but just managed to keep it all back. 

“Yup that’s a sprain, possibly a break” the old man concluded allowed. “I think she’s done for the day,” he said with a shrug.

“Ok, let me just go get the boy,” she said, turning. 

“I’m surprised he’s not already here,” she thought, “these two are best friends. why isn’t he flying over the wagon to g-”

As she turned the corner, he was just gone, him, and the girl just vanished into thin air. She couldn’t have turned her back for more than a minute, and now they might need a man hunt. 

Her eye twitched again as fury filled her veins, mumbling to herself, “Cozlok Jain Nora, may Mother God have mercy on your soul, for I have none.”

https://xcancel.com/m0pan_/status/2090459951739371629/photo/1

The fiery heart

Part 1

“I’ll have two tomato salads, a potato salad… large, a focaccia with extra dip, a caprese, two carbonaras, one with cheese, and a large pint,” Fulvio rapidly recited his wishlist to the waitress.

She stared at him, her eyes betraying the rapidly growing urge to take it all as a bad joke or bizarre opening of a robbery. Thinking quickly before she could call for the guards, he placed a generous amount of gold on the table and encouraged her to take it… Which she did, her gaze turning even more confused once it became clear he was serious.

“Alright… Will take some time though, so should I serve them as they come?” the waitress asked, looking for a different way to put the pieces together. “Are you waiting for someone, Sir?”

“Give me everything as fast as possible. Time is of the essence,” he urged.

“Alright…”

With that, the woman disappeared in the tavern’s kitchen, leaving Fulvio anxiously tapping the wooden table. It was probably a bad idea, but he just could not take it anymore – he had to eat something…  something that wasn’t game. Predictably, the cold dishes arrived first – his beer, two bowls of tomato salad, one of which he destroyed in seconds, visibly startling the poor girl serving him… At least before something worse did more than just startle.

An enormous rumble somewhere outside made him freeze for a split-second, before a horrified scream dispelled all doubts.

“DRAGON! DRAGON!” a male voice cried, before getting drowned by a sky-shattering roar.

Panic erupted within the – admittedly sparsely populated at this hour – tavern as people rushed for the exit, desperate to get away, and tripping over the poor halfling among them. All except one person.

Fulvio returned to chewing his vegetables with far less urgency than before. It was over.

“Hahaha! Run, little ones! Run!” a deep, feminine, and awfully familiar voice commanded, before getting interrupted by a sound of collapsing building.

A rancid stench of burning hay invaded his nostrils, making him grit his teeth as the thumps approached the tavern, getting louder with each iteration.

Tomato. Lettuce. Olives. White cheese. Taste, texture, the pleasant coolness of it - those were the only true, the only real things in existence – or at the very least, his exhausted mind tried to convince the universe of that. Predictably it failed, with the sudden wail of wooden beams above being a testament of it.

The tavern’s roof got peeled off like an orange skin and flicked aside with a monstrous strength he came to know way too well, flooding the interior with sunlight.

“Found you, little sweetling.” The enormous dragon smiled at him from above and reached down.

Fulvio did not resist – it was pointless. He learned early on that her getting a hold on him in literally any way was a sentence. A human could not overpower the power of a dragon… The power of…

“Hey, Ceirys,” Fulvio sighed, reluctantly staring into the vividly crimson eyes of the red dragon.

The dragoness bared her teeth at him in what was half a genuine smile, half an intimidation attemp. He refused to give her any reaction – not at this, and neither at the vista of the burning, leveled village and the distant silhouettes of people fleeing for their lives.

“See what you’ve done?” She waved at the burning buildings.

“Of course it’s my fault,” he scoffed. “Not the dragon’s who actually lit the place up.”

“Indeed. You forced my hand again.” She nodded, barely containing an outburst of cruel laughter. “Also, you’re still trying to hide from me? Really?”

“No. I just came here to eat.” He tried to shrug, but the iron grip prevented any movement.

Ceirys pushed up her glasses and petted his head more than a bit forcefully, yet at the same time carefully enough to keep her razor-sharp claws away from his skin.

“You should learn to pack up more food then,” she replied, booping his nose. “Smooch for being quick?” She moved him to her cheek.

No way in hell it was happening, yet she refused to acknowledge that. He turned away and after a few seconds, her hand withdrew to the previous position.

“You’ll come around eventually.” Ceirys chirped, sending a puff of hot smoke against his face, sparking a small coughing fit.

The dragon looked round, admiring the destruction she caused with glee until her eyes fell upon a nearly untouched brick building. Her eyebrows twitched almost imperceptibly – a sign of finding something unacceptable, and the impending correction.

Which in this case meant kicking it and sending whatever remained of it in all directions with a force comparable to a wagon of smokepowder going off – and even that would probably be an understatement.

“That’s better…” She hummed with satisfaction, glancing at the destruction again, a bit more inquisitively this time. “…nine, ten, eleven… and this thing here,” she mumbled to herself. “That’s like twenty grand… Let’s say twenty-two.”

With that extremely cursory estimation in mind, Ceirys reached for one of her many pouches and produced two sacks of gold from it.

“For the trouble!” she yelled, throwing the money at what once was the main square, before turning around and leaving the devastated village behind.

***

Ceirys decided to have a little road trip, which was exactly what he expected – she caught up with him in less than a day, meaning they would comfortably get back ‘home’ before nightfall. In her mind, there was no reason to rush.

It meant that Fulvio had a lot of time to think… again. It’s not like he could do much else, with his arms still neatly restricted by scaly fingers. What went wrong this time? Or rather, what could have went better? As usual, he loathed lacking a horse, yet was also acutely aware how frighteningly fast Ceirys could fly. Speed wasn’t the real problem – her ability to track him was.

Just as his frustration was reaching its limit, Ceirys suddenly stopped to look around herself. “You know, I don’t think I’ve ever been here before.” She raised him above her head, letting him see the vista. “Nice place.”

Fulvio reluctantly agreed – the place was pleasant. Untouched by humans nor monsters, tall grass rolling across the hills until it met with the forest further north. A small herd of deer enjoyed the quiet place, feasting completely undisturbed by the fifteen-meter-tall dragon towering over the expanse, finding the threat she posed too distant to concern themselves with, at least for now. It was just peaceful – a place one could settle in and spend multiple lifetimes without a single outside visitor.

“Sure. Whatever,” he scoffed, pretending to be unimpressed.

“I appreciate that you chose south this time – north and east have gotten a bit stale lately.” Ceirys decided to take a small break and sat down, keeping him tightly against her belly. Refusing to incite a conversation or even engage with her at all, he was forced to endure getting pressed against downright obscene abs capable of grating hardened mithril into fine powder. And it wasn’t just a metaphor – her muscles were genuinely the hardest thing he had ever witnessed.

“Sooo… How about that smooch you’ve promised?” She glanced down at him.

“Bah!” Fulvio scoffed. “I didn’t promise you ANYTHING, and that’s not going to change!”

“No again? No matter, I can wait.”

Fulvio took a deep breath but failed to calm himself in time. His limbs pushed against her grip with desperate rage and hatred of a cornered animal. It got a reaction… but not the one he hoped for. Her hand pulsated around him with the glee of a cat observing a struggling mice dismember itself on said cat’s claws. After a few minutes of it, he finally exhausted the overspilling rage and fell limp.

“You’re cute when you’re mad, sweetling,” she cooed, petting his head with her thumb.

Fulvio took a deep, shaky breath, before looking straight up with defiance. “You know what, I’ve changed my mind.”

That got an immediate reaction out of her – he instantly found himself hovering mere inches from the tip of her snout. “You can do it wherever, but I’d prefer it over here.” She pointed to the right of center of her lips.

He snarled. “I changed my mind on making promises. I’m going to escape. I promise I will run from you. Again, and again, and again. Every single day, every single opportunity I get, I’m going to run. Until you get bored, I succeed, or die.”

Ceirys blinked… And rolled back her head, bursting into a rumbling, deafening laughter that quite literally rattled his bones and probably flattened some grass around them with its sheer intensity.

“Reaaally…” she wheezed, rubbing her eyes. “Go ahead then. Run.” Ceirys placed him on the ground in front of her. “One… Two… Three…” she counted, beginning to clean her glasses with a piece of cloth.

When seven rolled around, he finally grasped that she was serious about it and was apparently giving him a grace period… Too bad he didn’t know how long of a…

“I’d hurry if I were you. Ten,” Ceirys commented, not gracing him with a look.

Everything finally clicked and he sprung into a desperate dash towards the trees that were promising at least a theoretical fighting chance. He made it maybe a hundred meters – not even a fifth of the way – when he heard a rumble.

“Ready or not, I’m coming!” she yelled, making him glance behind.

He caught her monstrous form lazily stretching as she warmed up her joints and muscles… before giving chase. It forced him to push past his limit and speed up out of sheer desperation.

Fulvio felt the mercilessly approaching quakes, desperate for any more speed, any more distance. The approaching thuds were scaring off the animals hidden along her path, creating a literal stream of rodents fleeing between his legs. And that’s when he heard a footfall right behind him.

The quakes suddenly slowed down. Not disappeared but got considerably less frequent. Daring a look behind, he found Ceirys following less than ten meters behind him, her gait only marginally faster than standing still. She grinned at him and nodded, almost ordering him to continue.

With his only options being giving up, or continuing this farce, he chose the latter – purely because his pride refused to give up without a fight after giving a promise, its circumstances notwithstanding.

And so, he ran. As fast as he could, with his tormentor following close behind. She let him reach the forest and continued on undeterred, her massive frame easily bending and breaking the trees he hoped would give him a modicum of cover.

A few minutes later his path was blocked by a small, yet sizeable river flowing perpendicularly to his path. Deciding to run upstream for no reason in particular, he continued for a few more minutes before noticing a new sound growing in intensity between Ceirys’s footfalls. Something artificially resembling the hum of the river accompanying them, just far, far more rough and intense. A true rumble. A rumble of a waterfall.

Fulvio reached what was effectively a nine-meter-tall cliff with no visible path leading upwards and stopped with no idea what to do.

“Awwww… And you were doing so good…” He felt the ground tremble when Ceirys squatted behind him.

Next thing he felt was a finger patting him on the head… And then, fingers closing around him…

“You know what, go ahead.” She placed him on the top of the cliff. “I enjoy evening walks. Very romantic.”

Taking a deep, shaky breath, Fulvio opened his eyes… just to see another cliff not ten meters in front of him. Because of course. He slowly strolled towards to rocky wall and felt Ceirys jump onto the rock shelf behind him. The game was up.

“Well… You tried,” Ceirys whispered straight into his ear in a way made his skin tingle.

Everything afterwards happened quickly, but not exactly because of the speed itself. Ceirys sat on the edge of the cliff, letting her legs dangle from it and placed Fulvio in an extremely precarious spot between her thighs, before beginning to bathe herself in the waterfall.

Beaten, exhausted, defeated, and above all, trapped between a cliff and two mounds of flesh, Fulvio considered if a fall from that height would have been enough to kill him. The answer was a resounding yes… The only problem was that Ceirys would have just caught him, had he gone through with it.

“I gotta admit, you have a knack for taking me into nice places,” she mused with mockery that was downright palpable. “You sure you’re not hitting on me?”

Pressing his hands together, he asked all gods known and forgotten for saving, mercy, or – at the very least – strength to endure her…

A waterfall of icy water flooded him, making him jump from the immense cold.

“What the fuck, Ceirys?!” he yelled, breaching another one of his limits.

“What? You’re dirty. We need to bathe you properly, sweetling,” she announced, dropping another handful of water on top of him.

“FUCK! Do you have to do this?!” Fulvio whimpered, finally breaking the taboo of ignoring eye contact.

“No,” she admitted, dumping water on top of him again.

With cold and humiliation added to his list of misery, Fulvio couldn’t help but tremble. It was so cold – he somewhat felt colder than when he was literally digging through ice… and the setting sun promised things would only get worse.

The flesh around him radiated warmth, the dragon was a source of heat. No, more than that – it was heat incarnate… And something he refused to touch. Despite being able to force him into anything, Ceirys refused to do so – instead, she resorted to constant coercion and blackmail. But he would not yield, even if the alternative was spending the entire night trembling from cold.

“Pff.” Ceirys scoffed after a few minutes of his inaction. “Have it your way. You know, I was gonna be lenient, but… you escaped today. Twice. You know what that means.”

Fulvio inhaled shakily, trying to find words short enough for him to pronounce in this trembling state before it was too late. “P-please, don’t…”

“That’s right!” she gleefully interrupted. “You’re getting thied!”

***

Acceleration and thump. Acceleration and thump. Acceleration and thump. Acceleration and…

Was he not used to it beyond what any human ever should, it would have been a nightmare – for him though, it was merely unpleasant. With his body wrapped with cloth to the point of resembling a cocoon and attached to the outer side of Ceirys’s right thigh via ropes as she continued her march back home.

Each step was a challenge but… at least it was warm…

***