Mountain verses Molehill Jake sighed, dropping down onto a nearby rock. He was sore, having walked for hours through the Flooded Forest, in search of a Wroggi that was supposedly causing a ruckus. All that work was in vain though, seeing as how the Wroggi had long since left the area. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath to relax, listening to the soft summer sounds of the forest. He could hear small birds chirping softly, water running over the flooded areas of the forest, and from deeper in the woods, the mating calls of unknown wyverns. It was a nice day, hot, but no painfully so, and quiet. Jake was a hunter from Moga Village, a small coastal outcropping of homes and docks floating on the water near the edge of the island it was attached to. He protected the village from wyverns, alongside a fellow hunter, Luka, who chose a bowgun as his tool. Together, the two had faced down one of the biggest threats to the village, the Lagiacrus, saving the port town. He had trained through the guild, day and night, mastering his sword and shield, becoming a deeply skilled hunter. He had a problem with authority though, especially when it came to hunting something big. He received serious reprimands on top of commendations when he was sent out to hunt a Great Jaggi and had proceeded to bag a Deviljho, being the first rookie that had accomplished such a feat. He quickly became known as "Stonewall" for his ability to weather any hit, be it to body or shield. He was snapped out of his peace by the feeling of eyes, practically boring into his back. As he stood, he said, "Are you going to keep glaring at me, or show yourself?" Nothing but silence greeted him, though the feeling that someone was watching him didn't pass. He closed his eyes, heaving a frustrated sigh as he began to head back to base camp. Whoever, or for the matter, whatever followed after him, in a pitiful attempt at stealth. Twigs snapped under large and heavy feet, and leaves rustled as something brushed against them. Jake paid no mind to it, since he knew he could react in a matter of seconds if anything was attempted. Having arrived back at camp, he set about starting a fire to cook his meal. His mysterious tag-a-long was still observing him, and he just carried on as per the norm. He ate his meal of well seasoned and cooked meat, than set about getting his armor and weapons in order. The soft scrapping sound of his whetstone over his blade was soothing and he quickly relaxed, the odd, watchful presence now forgotten about. With a perfect edge to the blade, he finished up, packing his gear away, keeping his sword and shield available near his bed as he lay down. He would be ready if this creature, for he was sure he wasn't dealing with a human anymore, tried anything. As he lay his head down, he thought to himself, "No man is this patient." ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Jake awoke the next day, feeling poorly rested. He had risen multiple times throughout the night, sensing that his visitor had been on the verge of entering his camp. He would sit up, draw his blade, and stare out at the woods where he could feel the presence. As the night drew on, he eventually saw the pair of vibrant pink eyes, glaring red from the embers of his fire. Watching. Waiting for him to do something. They would slowly back away a minute after they locked eyes, but now he had a way to track this beast. This morning though, as his eyes swept over the fog and foliage, he saw nothing but just that. His companion had left. No skin off his nose. He prepped breakfast, checked his gear once more, and set out, ready to handle the Wroggi situation before having to spend another night with his mysterious friend. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- "There you are" Jake said, locking eyes with the Wroggi. The creature was tall, around maybe 8 to 9 feet tall. If he could not convince the beast to leave the area, and it came to blows, he would ask for the official measurements from the guild. He approached slowly, ready to attempt peace making, but before he could even attempt it, the Great Wroggi threw its head back, unleashing an angry roar. "So be it!" Jake yelled, drawing his sword as he leapt back. The Wroggi charged him, but he was faster than the bird wyvern, dodging to its side. He swung his blade, feeling the tug as it meet flesh. The beast let out a pained groan, lashing at the hunter with its tail. He blocked the blow, leaping back to distance himself from the beast. The fight was going well, and he doubted that the wyvern could outlast him. Moving much more cautiously due to its wounds, the wyverns throat inflated, before it spewed a toxic purple mist towards Jake. He had prepared for this inevitability, packing along a filtering mask. The shock on the Wroggis face was oddly satisfying as he rushed through the toxic mist. "Let's end this!" Jake shouted, swinging his blade. What should have been a death blow though was averted, becoming a less dangerous cut above the eye as something jerked Jake back. He quickly realized his mystery friend had just shown his hand. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Watching the human move carefully through the woods, attempting not to soak his armor, Feron felt a deep seated anger welling up within him. He knew the human was a hunter, one who hunted wyverns for a living. Feron was a half breed, the results of one very brave human male and a desperate wyvern. His hatred for humans started with his father, who had chosen to abandon him and his mother. She did however, care very deeply for her son, keeping him safe from the elements and hunters, while making sure he would grow strong, able to defend himself if the day would ever come. And it did. Humans seeking to expand their village decided her territory would be an excellent spot. She chose not to leave, and the humans contacted the guild for assistance. His mother sent him away, and as he fled, he could hear her fighting. He hid, listening for over twenty minutes, to trees smashing and terrible roars, until finally silence reigned. He continued to hide within the woods, letting his anger fester as he grew older. And now, here was a hunter, alone in his woods. It was time for his revenge. Feron stalked the hunter, believing himself to be well hidden within the foliage. That was proven false when the human stood from the rock he was resting on, looking towards Ferons location in the plants and said "Are you going to keep glaring at me, or show yourself?" Feron cursed himself silently, stepping back into the woods to hide himself. He stalked the human, clumsily due to his large form, though stealth had never really been a strong point for his kind. Arriving at a camp site, he simply stood there, watching the hunter. It frustrated him deeply that the man was so nonchalant about all this. He watched the man strop his skinning knife after whetting his blade. He watched the man cook and eat. He watched him go to rest. It was now or never he thought, stepping out towards the man. Almost instantly though, the man rose up, drawing his blade and looking towards Feron, almost daring him to keep walking into the ring of light cast by the embers. Feron stepped back each time, though eventually hunger and need for rest won over. Slipping into the woods, he striped some bark from a tree, his strong molars easily crushing the bark. He sat and contemplated his approach, all the while attempting to keep his eyes open. He failed, quickly drifting into a light sleep. He was awoken as an angry roar tore through the woods. A Wroggis call. He now knew where the human was, as well as his goals. He stood up and thundered off towards the new disturbance. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Jake, having slammed his elbow into his captors stomach, quickly turned to see who it was. He found himself staring down a rather peeved wyvern hybrid, a Duramboros. He was tall, about as tall as the injured Wroggi that had now limped away from the scene. He was covered in a reddish brown hide, green foliage having grown over his humps on his back. Two large horns sprouted from his head, light tan in color, long, and ending in sharp tips. His lips pulled back into a snarl, contorting what could otherwise be a fairly kind, even handsome face into something twisted, angry. His body was thick, and to the untrained eye, pudgy. But Jake was a hunter, and he knew that under a Duramboros' fat, there was raw, powerful muscle. This hybrid was ready to kill him, if given the opportunity, so Jake was prepared to show no mercy. True to the nature of the Flooded Forest, early afternoon rain began to fall, though neither rivals noticed. The Duramboros attacked first, charging at Jake with its horns lowered. He brought his shield up, digging his boots into the ground to brace himself. Catching the wyvern on his shield, he loosened his grip, pulling the wyverns head up as he tossed his shield away. He swung at the same time that the wyvern did, being faster, he severed the tip of the wyverns right horn, and cracked with the butt of the sword against its temple. As it began to fall, unconscious, Jake did not escape unphased. Its fist still collided with his ribs, sending him stumbling back a few feet. He gasped for air, dropping to his knees as the wind left his lungs. The cool rain helped him recover quickly though, leaving him with an unconscious, violent, and now thanks to his actions, injured wyvern on his hands. He sighed, before saying "I'd better get my contract fee back after all this." ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- After dragging the wyvern back to his camp, Jake had set about treating his wounds. The hybrids thick hide had received multiple nicks and scrapes, which were meet with poultice and bandage. Jake couldn't help but let his eyes wander though, having always had more of an appreciation for the male form rather than the female one. This hybrid was something different....something exotic. He had heard the stories, all sorts of things. People turning into wyverns, half breeds, wyverns speaking to humans. He had never really been much of a believer in those sort of things. And yet here he was, hands all over one such creature. He was warm, and had a rather earthy scent about him, smelling like rain on dry dirt, under a subtle, manly scent. Blushing a little, he slid off the wyverns loincloth, which was thoroughly ruined by now, revealing his sheath and large reddish brown orbs. Resisting the urge to play with them, to massage them, he quickly pulled a blanket up over the wyvern. He placed a cold compress on the males forehead, letting his hand rest on his cheek for a few seconds. "Let's hope you're in a better mood when you wake up" ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Feron woke a couple of hours later. His head hurt, especially the tip of his horn, aching in a dull throb. But...why wasn't he dead? The human had knocked him out. Wouldn't a hunter deal the last blow then? He sat up weakly, feeling a blanket fall away from his body. He was nude, though he realized that his wounds had all been treated. He looked out through the flaps of the tent, seeing the human sitting there, stripping bark from a large piece of wood. Slowly, Feron raised himself up, his sore body complaining the whole time. Being nude wasn't anything new to him. As he emerged from the tent the human turned to look at him, before reaching over and offering him a large strip of bark. Feron took it, before sitting across the fire from the human. As he tore into it, crushing it with his broad teeth, he just watched the human. He was calm, continuing to strip bark from the wood, presumably for him. He kept looking up at him, though his gaze kept drifting down as well, towards his nethers. Was he...eying him? Feron held back a chuckle as he continued to regard the human. They sat in silence, watching each other, though the human kept looking a little lower. After a few minutes of the humans eyeballing, he asked "Why did you help me, human?" Jake almost shivered at the sound of the wyverns voice, as deep and rich as it was. Containing his desires, he said "I helped you out of curiosity. You're something special, and I'm rather...interested in you....as you've probably gathered." Feron raised a brow at this. Maybe he could hate this human a little less. "Interested in what way?" he asked, though he already knew in what ways, as he spread his legs open. Jake stood up, setting his knife down along with the bark, slowly stepping towards the wyvern. "You already know, idiot" Jake said, dropping to his knees in front of the wyvern. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Feron closed his eyes, taking a deep breath as the humans hands quickly got to work. One hand gently cupped one of his large orbs, stroking it softly, as the other began to tease his sheath. A little part of his mind tried to get him to stop, to hate this human, but he didn't care right now. He had never been able to come across another male who shared his sexual views, so he was taking this chance. His member quickly rose to the occasion, dark brown in color, with a broad flat head, and a ring in the center. It was a beast of a tool, sixteen inches in length, and plenty thick. He was breathing shakily by now, feeling the humans hand stroking up and down his shaft, feeling its warmth, the veins texturing it. A large bead of pre had formed on the tip by now. The human leaned forward, letting his tongue stroke from the base of his cock to the tip, tasting the bitter saltiness of his pre. Closing his eyes, the human began to lick and suck on the tip of his member, before slowly wrapping his lips around his tip. Length was a bit of a problem, the human only able get halfway down the top part of his shaft. It was enough for Feron though, as he placed his paw on the back of the humans head. The human let go of his orbs, letting his hands stroke over the bottom half of his member. Feron closed his eyes, savoring the humans work, feeling his tongue stroking the bottom of his shaft. The human was enjoying himself as well, letting out happy moans. All the thick pre coating his tongue, the thick heady taste of the wyverns member, the whole situation was completely intoxicating. It didn't take long for the first signs of the coming storm to appear. The Duramboros was panting heavily, thrusting into the humans mouth. He finally threw his head back, roaring in pleasure as he climaxed. Thick, hot seed poured into the humans mouth and down his throat. He swallowed it all eagerly, before finally pulling away with a gasp. He sat, continuing to stroke the thick shaft. Feron sighed softly, content to leave it at that. But the human had other ideas. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Jake stood, still breathing heavily after that whole experience. He quickly stripped off his clothes, the wyverns eyes on him, his heavy breathing quickening once more. He had a well toned body, with some scars to show for all of his hunts. He was only 5 foot 11 inches, daunted by the Duramboros, and 6 inches in length. As he straddled the wyvern though, his length didn't matter. Resting his hands on the wyverns shoulders, staring into his eyes for a few seconds, Jake wrapped his arms around the wyverns head, feeling warm, smooth hide, and soft moss. They pulled each other close, letting their lips meet. The wyvern was grinding against his rump now, his slick member pulsing with desire. Jake pressed forwards, letting his tongue wrap around the wyverns thick, broad one. He slowly raised up, pressing himself against the head of the wyverns cock. He pulled away, sucking in a deep breath as he began to lower himself onto the wyverns thick cock. His body was a little more accepting to the length and girth the Duramboros was packing in this way. He cried out in pleasure, passing over the thick ring in the center of his shaft. The two lovers took it slow, letting Jakes body grow used to the thick shaft. He groaned as he gently grinded against the base of his cock, teasing both of them. He slowly began to slide up, quivering in pleasure as the beast of a cock slid out of him. He pulled the wyvern close again, slipping his tongue back into his mouth. The two held each other close, tongues twisting around each others, a soft rhythm of thrusts in, and slides out. Jake could already feel himself getting close. How long had it been, minutes? Hours? He wasn't going to last long, and neither was his lover. He broke the kiss, wrapping his arms around the wyverns neck, resting his head on his warm leathery shoulder. He closed his eyes, only taking a few more thrusts, before moaning in pleasure, his seed coating the wyverns stomach. It took the wyvern a few more thrusts before he roared out in pleasure, pumping seed into Jakes body. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The two lovers lay together, resting after their little lust fueled romance. Jake ran his hand down the wyverns arm, threading his fingers around the wyverns paw as he reached the end. "All that and I don't even know your name handsome. " Jake whispered, stroking the leathery skin. "Feron" the wyvern whispered, pulling the human closer. He had never felt this exhausted, but he was happy as hell at the current situation. "Mmmm....well, I'm going to call you Love, ok?" Feron smiled before whispering, "I'm perfectly fine with that." Jake smiled and said "Well then, good night Love" The end.