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{Art Damage}

{Zephyr}

Keeping in a good humor was excessively difficult these days.

The Eradication was happening quicker and quicker, and Zephyr could name the amount of Fae that remained in a few weeks, give or take.

It used to take him years.

He found his lip curling a bit at the thought, and quickly smoothed his face into something approaching pleasant. The Eradication - what he had taken to calling the destruction of all Ancient Arts, including that which belonged to the Fae - was the reason he was sitting in a Sanctuary instead of playing tricks and flitting around the forest like he should be.

Not that he was resentful. Fae Dragons seemed to be a prime target.

Fae Dragons - like Zephyr - were what became of dragon eggs exposed to intense bursts of Fae and Wild magics, the likes of which normally only came from Faerie Queens and Wild Huntsmen.

Seeing as the two hated each other, that understandably didn't happen very often.

Of course, after the eggs hatched, there were all the perils of being a baby in a hostile environment, with no parental figures to tell you what was wrong and what was right and what would eat you -

Well. It was often a very short and very bloody life.

{Ulrik}

"Scent," Ulrik's husky groan spoke aloud, his mind already ahead of him, the aroma of fresh rain and body heat rushing his mental senses, "And touch..."

One hand tugged firmly at the hem of his trousers, his engorged member already starting to ache from within hot leather confines.

No contact for ages...No release...

A muscular back reclined back as a free palm slick with saliva slid up and down a throbbing shaft, biting his lip, eyes screwed shut. In the cinema of his thoughts, he played out his fantasies, bringing his tongue to his lips.

Today it was an elf boy, tomorrow would be something else.

Eyes closed, he could see himself pulling the much smaller male into his bed, stripping off the young one's clothes with an external growl. "Mmm...Yes..." He was far away from the shanty he took a position beneath, binoculars still at his side. His grip on his manhood tightened as the elf boy in his thoughts wrapped his pretty mouth around his force.

"Good boy..."

He curled under the survivor blanket, grinning, dry, as the heavy rain caused the small cloth and metal tent to play staccato acoustics in his ears. Ulrik spit into his hand and was about to give it another go when he heard it, the twitch of leaf--the sound of footstep, Ulrik only had enough time to scramble in an upright position before he felt it.

Cold. His body screamed.

An entire canteen of freezing cold rain exploded and drenched over his head, wetting his clothes and causing an angry shout to escape his lips.

Shaking his head back and forth in the same way his wolven form would, the mercenary saw the source of the disruption, a stocky male who was paired up with his Patrol, a damned amazing hunter, but one whose tongue got him in more trouble than his virtues could contest.

"Felwyn, you fucking bastard!"

Felwyn, wearing a mantle of fur, could do nothing but chuckle, a thick soldier's laugh, saved by the fact that he was discharged ages ago, "That's for jacking off on the job."

A glimmer of jest sparked in his yellow eyes. With a crystal spyglass in hand, he stared in the direction of the Atria, speaking with a clenched jaw, "No time to lose. Arkeddon's Troops are already closing in. Look alive sunshine. It's go time."

{Zephyr}

There were invaders in the Sanctuary, and they were having a terrible time.

First, their clothing kept getting snagged on errant branches, some of which certainly weren't there before.

Second, roots kept snagging their feet, causing them to trip and stumble.

Third, all of their shiny things disappeared.

Zephyr, of course, had a hand in all of it - except the third. That had been the Magpies - although, he had encouraged them...

His ethereal form was incredibly deceptive; his egg - before it had been Altered - had been that of an Earth and Fire pairing. His sire had hailed from the volcanic ridge of Korupalos and his dam came from the swamps that made the base of said volcanoes impassible.

He watched now, gleefully, as the group slowly got separated, one or two chasing Will-o-Wisps and others hounding after illusions.

This left one; a rather bulky fellow, that reeked of the wilds, of pack-hunts and deep forests.

Zephyr found it rather appealing, actually.

The Fae took shelter in a tree, watching the would-be hunter stumble and curse; on a whim, he decided to take a more...Direct approach.

"Well hello, there, my fine sir. And how are you doing on this lovely evening?" He finally piped up, after a few more moments of watching him flounder.

The hunter looked up, and Zephyr allowed a lazy smile to curl his lips.

The Fae had been told, repeatedly, that the Otherform he had shaped for himself was quite a lovely thing to behold. He had simply taken features of his Trueform and put it on a human-ish body, producing an effect that was clearly Fae.

{Ulrik}

The diversion had worked.

In the distance as Felwyn and Ulrik neared the green glass orb to swallow the sky before them, a single trail of grey smoke rose to touch the stars, marking the procession of the Troops, in consternation, halted.

"I'll be damned. Those fools took the bait."

They were able to scurry through their blockade, noted their given forms, Felwyn a black bear and Ulrik a black wolf.

Entrenched in the chaos, the machine-loving soldiers entertained the Elemental chasing their attention.

Until they realize that the creature is a hologram.

The Druid knew that the window of opportunity to enter the Atria unannounced was closing, and in a growl, shivered, his form shimmering the same color of his eyes, the pale blue of the third moon, he assumed the form of a Night-Phoenix.

In two mighty sweeps of wings, he was soaring above the range of the soldiers, finding a sufficient portico to sneak into. The Atria was smatteringly secure, it took him an irrate amount of time before he found it-- a single portico, just large enough to squeeze his avian form into. He regarded it with a sneer that the crevice was made by the first attempts of the Arkkedon Kingdoms to breach the Sanctuary, only to realize that it self-healed against their machine assault. Even as he stepped through, the small tunnel glowed with healing magic, resealing.

In moments, the fresh magical scent of the Atria rushed his senses, only moments after realizing that it would be unwise to pursue his quarry in such a form. Flying to the floor of the forest, Ulrik would touch ground as a human once more.

If only to be more... Personable.

His gruff laugh met the thought, a palm dirty with soot stroking at the rough wolven scruff to crown his cheeks and chin. His partner was nowhere in sight, which was just as well. They had agreed to meet in the surrounding Arboria at 0800.

He regarded the timing with a grunt of disapproval, knowing that only moments after, Arkeddon would plant and detonate their explosives. "Of course I had to agree to do this," Ulrik growled, as a root tripped his step for the upteenth time, "Incarceration is an empty threat." He couldn't deny that he was less interested in wiping his criminal record for 'treason against Arkeddon', and more interested in trying out one of the creatures of the Atria.

No. Not trying out. Saving. Stick with the mission.

Gods knew that having the mind of an animal never helped these matters.

But Ulrik had known it from the start-- his Twine of Focus was strong. He was too prideful to let it get out of hand.

When he heard it, his suspicions of being watched were confirmed, and when he saw it-- "A Fae." Sweet Aethella, when he saw it...

*~*~*~*

{Bjorn}

Bjorn knew he was being watched right from the get-go.

He could smell the creature before he could see it, but immediately he knew that it was exactly what was needed. It spoke to him, in a voice carried softly by the Atrian air, causing the druid to avert his orange gaze in the direction, white canines flashing for the briefest moments before falling grace to the grave.

"Ahoy there, Fae," was tone low sported, noting his position in the tree, Bjorn flipping through the scenarios involving getting his hands all over the fair creature, "You're going to hate this."

He stepped closer to the base, hands digging through the pouches and pockets looking for an answer: "But, I'm afraid the Atria is no longer safe. Arkeddon's Troops, yes, the ones outside the dome right now are doing everything they can to get in." He withdrew the temporal orb, a runic clock counting down until 0800 in glowing red inscriptions. As he spoke, the rune of Decis flipped down into the rune of Ninus.

"If you want to survive the assault, I suggest you come with me. The others-- they've cleared a way out. But our time runs short." His orange gaze caught the Fae's alert. "Trust me; I don't bite." Even as he said this, he could feel that his Bonds tugged at him slightly more than the other Druids. Bjorn knew that it made it harder to stay in any one form a result, his focus touched by static noise, clouding his mind when the stars fell out of alignment. He told the Council that he was fine. The stars had fallen into the house of Discord, but that shouldn't matter... Much...

{Zephyr}

"Really? How unfortunate." Zephyr shifted his position on the branch, causing it to groan slightly in protest.

"'Arkeddon' troops? So that's what they're called?" He pondered, tapping his chin with a delicate-looking finger. "Iiiinteresting."

He observed the male as he thought, noting the fact that he seemed quite high-strung - like a harpstring wound far too tight, likely to snap any minute and likely injure someone in the process.

"If it's all the same to you, my fine fellow, I think I'll stay up in this tree. You seem rather wound up." He said finally, after a few moments silence - simply testing the waters a bit.

{Bjorn}

The Druid was prepared for skepticism.

"I guess you don't understand," Bjorn spoke, tone dropping, "Arkeddon is going to blow this place sky high. There's not going to be a branch to sit on."

He started searching in his pouches again, speaking distracted, "And if you're wondering why I look like this," He frowned, when he didn't find the object of search in the largest pocket, "You would be too, if you knew that your only escape...is closing in on you..."

His voice fell far away as he spoke these last words, finding a series of small grey beads, rolling three through his fingers.

He could feel the Twine of Focus vibrating at a high frequency within him, taking all of his concentration to fit the human armaments he wore.

Despite his best efforts, Bjorn's canines lengthened and pupils dilated into slits. He understood this and swore, an ancient curse under his breath. "Look kid, I'm not leaving this place without you." He took his first steps away, those intense orange eyes still trained on him. Now his aura threatened censure for insolence, and in a growl he could help but adding, "If you think I'm bad; compared to the Troops, I'm like a walk in the damn Faire." His patience was running short, "Now move."

{Zephyr}

The Fae sighed, very much put out by the other's tone. "You're no fun," he complained, making no move to climb down at first. "Where's the enjoyment in life if you can't laugh at immediate peril?"

When the male only glared at him, he pouted and rolled off the branch, catching it and swinging himself down to land on his feet - which, of course, were bare. "There, I'm out of the tree." He crossed his arms and stared at the other, noting the changes in his features.

"Huh. You are quite high-strung, aren't you?"

{Bjorn}

Eyes winced when he heard the Fae speak of 'enjoyment in life', the Druid taking all the while longer to recover when the the Twine of Focus strummed again, this time harder, a single note that filled his ears with sound, and made his vision swarm with black dots.

Balance left him for the briefest moments, but the damage had been done-- once Balance left, there went with it, all sense of humanity, the Wild taking over for that moment.

"I'm not," He found himself spitting in the face of the Fae, "High strung--" He growled, but there was not much more speaking to do as he was perched firmly atop of the beautiful fae boy, Bjorn's Twine having been sliced in half and his Wild reclaiming his body.

In a flash, his hands were around the neck of the young male beneath him, squeezing, testing his strong animal grip, bringing his sharp jaw to ravage his skin-- not yet drawing blood as he tore away the clothing with teeth.

{Zephyr}

First he had been perched, nice and safe, in a tree; now he was on his back on the thick moss of the Sanctuary floor, with a rather heavy Druid pinning him with his hands around his neck and doing his damnedest to rip his clothing to shreds.

With his teeth, none the less, and catching some of his skin in the process.

He was lucky he was far more resilient than his delicate-looking features suggested; he gasped for air, wrapping his hands around his aggressor's wrists out of reflex.

"I -- thought you wanted -- to leave --" He choked out.

(He didn't mind a little rough play - or even a lot of rough play - but he usually consented first.)

{Ulrik}

There was a commotion near him.

Which was odd, because that wasn't supposed to happen for another forty-three minutes. The Druid was lithe towards the sound of shuffling leaves, the sound of lowered vices, ripping cloth--

When he saw what it was, he would admit that his Twine was touched-- with choler, his eyes flashed in rage-- he knew the body above the sacred creature-- Bjorn.

That brute never invited me.

Now Ulrik was at his body faster than speed, screwing up a fist balled to white knuckles, and sending a muscular arm skywards beneath Bjorn's chin.

The sound of bone cracking was the first sound, and the howl of pain & vengeance was the next.

With two impossibly forceful arms, Ulrik picked up Bjorn's body from the Fae, shoving him away the youth.

Before Bjorn could react, Ulrik pounced the Druid, forcing his way on top of the other man, his face growling, arms holding down at the wrists, "You damned fool... You will ruin everything..." Bjorn jerked under him, the fight, he put up explosive energy-- Ulrik knew the Wild, and it would need to be tamed.

He clamped down on the body of the one beneath, drawing strength from his wolven form, and in one swift movement, had the feral male completely silenced.

"That's right," He hissed, slapping at Bjorns face rudely, "If you move..." His threat completed his words. Ulrik's hand having expanded and gripped around every inch of Bjorn's manhood, he screwed up his palm into another fist, threatening to pulverize the male's sacral in a single move.

He spat this time on Bjorn's face, the fearful male paralyzed with shame and fear, erupting up on two feet and kicking his ribs once, before catching the gaze of the Fae. "You." He spoke, jaw clenched, "Here." He came up to the young one, using still rough hands to smooth out the creases in his ruffled clothing, opening a palm for the Fae to accept it, "You'd better stay close to me from now on. A pretty boy like you is just asking for it..."

Waiting for him to take his hand, Ulrik would turn into the shadows of the Atria where the next rendezvous awaited.

...Or so he thought. A voice buzzed at his hip, emitting from the Frequency Modulator Orb, a familiar voice, Felwyn,

"Ulrik, Arkkedon's forces have blocked our exit. You'll have to get out some other way. I'll be patrolling in the mean time. You have less time than ever. Luck, mate."

{Zephyr}

Abruptly, with the crack of fist meeting bone, he found his airways clear.

He inhaled sharply, sitting up and rubbing his throat; he would have bruises for sure.

Pity this form can't have scales.

He heard another gruff voice speak; fanlike ears perking, he observed the newest individual to cross his path.

His features reminded him unavoidably of a wolf, and he had to smile - keeping his mouth firmly shut of course, bearing fang could be seen as a very bad thing in this circumstance - and nodded, taking the proffered hand.

The Fae inhaled, taking in the hunter's scent as he was pulled to his feet; the smile on his lips turned decidedly more sly, noting the way this new male looked up and down his form with interest.

My, my. Someone has been lacking for pleasant company, haven't they?

Zephyr was not naive in any shape of the word; next to none of the Fae were.

"Why, thank you for intervening on my behalf, dear trespasser." He said slyly. "I should...thank you properly, but it seems that we don't have time for such things. Remind me later; I'll gladly play ewe to your ram."

{Ulrik}

"The pleasure's all mine," He replied, looking around for a suitable escape, dangerously adding, "Don't say things like that. You may get them."

Ulrik scanned the map depicted in the spell glass with sinking morale. A flat pane of crystal tablet, it's transparent surface displayed possible routes to escape, but since Felwyn's update, displayed only one. "Well, kid, I hope you've always wanted to be a soldier." He snickered, using a single palm to tousle the male's brilliant red hair, stooping low and tugging the Fae into the underbrush when he heard the sound of footstep. As it passed, he straightened out, moving deeper into the shrouds of trees, studying the creature attached to him, palm in palm. Aside from finding it nigh impossible to believe that the Fae were a useless race, Ulrik could name ten uses for the Fae before him right now, none of which required undergarments. "Ah," He breathed, stopping now, crossing burly arms over one another, and shaking his head. Eyes still grinning, he sized up the creature's hair, it was too noticeable-- looking into his coy gaze, "A little spit and grit could do you some good."

Reaching into his pouches on his chest harness, he would withdraw a helionode repair kit, which happened to include a vial of black engine oil.

"Stand against this tree, " He asserted in a clear baritone, "And stay still..."

In a flash of movement one powerful hand collected a fistful of the vibrant hair, tilting the Fae's head downward, he used a spare hand to draw his dagger, and in a single sweep of wrist, sliced off its length, the hair loosening in spiked strands. Spitting into his palms, and using teeth to pull the cork from the vial, he mixed the contents into a thick lave, the Fae's back against the tree where he put him. "Look sharp," He murmured, using two unpracticed hands to massage the grease into his messy hair. When he was done, he stood back and took a look at the mess he made. "You look good," He spoke, punching the Fae in the shoulder lightly. "But there's something missing..."

{Zephyr}

He couldn't help but smirk as he watched the male scrutinize the map in his hands. If he had his tail, it would be curling.

"Hadn't given it much thought, honestly." He replied, following the Druid without a struggle. He felt, rather than saw, him studying his form; he couldn't help but preen a bit under the gaze.

When told to stand against a tree, the Fae obeyed, curious. He saw the dagger, felt his hair being gathered, and opened his mouth to tell the Druid that he could save him the trouble of cutting it --

Too late.

He did his best not to squirm as the male rubbed oil into the messy remains of his hair; it was difficult, however, and his face clearly betrayed his disgust.

I could've just changed my appearance, he thought ruefully, touching the greased strands with a grimace. Too late now, though.

{Ulrik}

Ulrik knew what was missing.

With the Fae's back against the tree and the Druid's much larger body dwarfing him in size, Ulrik could place a palm above the Fae's shoulder on bark, leaning down it's length to ease into the creature's territory. He was close enough to see the tiny beads of sweat to form on his face, diamond droplets. He was so close that his chest pressed against the chest of the other's, and his breath cascaded down the Fae's neck in a steaming heat-wave. This close to him, he could feel his Wild threaten to take over, to become a savage-- but that was not his intent. Leaning forward he placed his lips on the lips of the Fae, inhaling his sweet scent, and using teeth to separate his caution. "If you want to be a soldier," He mused, in a low growl, "You'll have to act like one too--" The kiss ended as the Druid took to bite the Fae's lips, pricking their tenderness to draw blood, his strong arms holding the Fae still as he did this.

"There," Ulrik examined his work with a smirk, "Now you look like a real fighter. Go see for yourself." He gestured to the small pool of crystalline blue water at their feet, turning his back toward the Fae before he could be tempted, and moments later he was back to business.

{Zephyr}

Zephyr wasn't exactly expecting the Druid to invade his personal space so...thoroughly.

He certainly didn't mind, though.

The male's scent swamped his senses, causing a tiny, electric shudder to wind its way down his spine; it had been such a long time since his last tryst.

Abruptly, a small, sharp pain broke his stupor, and he yipped quietly as he felt the Druid draw blood.

The fae nearly protested as the other male drew back; he didn't even get a chance to reciprocate!

Peering into the small, blue pool, he frowned a bit as his appearance. He did look passable, in the line of being a soldier, but he didn't quite care for it.

{Ulrik}

With the map in hands, he noted with a satisfaction, two flashing dots approached. "See those? That's our ticket out of here."

With silent step and crouching low, Ulrik had the grey beads in hand, and as footstep got closer, he could see them approaching from around the ancient oak. When the Fae returned to his side, he automatically deposited a bead into the young one's hand. "On my mark, I want you to peg the one closest to you..."

Their voices floated between the canopy, two gruff tones, one more prominent than the other spoke, '...And you're certain we weren't noticed?"

The two onlookers could see them now, two of Arkeddon's soldiers, rift in the scarlet garments that made them so distinct,

"Yes, Malakai, I checked and double checked. We were not seen, or followed." The other male, having replaced his plasma rifle to the harness on his back was free in hand, stretching his arms skywards, grinning, "Finally." He barked, lowering his arms to snag the coat tail of the one next to him, chuckling as the smaller soldier fumbled his next words, "Easy, Jorin...It's not gonna hurt you." "I know Malakai...But I've just never done it before..." The one known as Malakai pulled Jorin into a light embrace, knocking his forehead into the other's and nuzzling him. "Don't worry. I'll make sure to go gentle on you..."

When he said this, his palms slid upwards into the hair of the other, weaving between safflower strands until he could get a tough grip. He pulled the other's head down his chest and to his crotch, where the sound of jingling belt-loops were unfastened.

When Ulrik saw the Fae make a twitch forward, he stopped him with a palm on his thigh. "Wait," he whispered, eyes glinting, "I just need to see something real quick." The Fae nodded, and then he could watch, biting his lip and fondling his own erection as the young soldier performed fellatio on the other. "...He's pretty good for a first-timer," Ulrik noted, standing up slowly now, bead in hand, a twinge of regret, but adamant as ever. "Go."

He erupted into the clearing and tossed the bead at the soldier on his knees, watching in satisfaction as the bead activated and expanded into a full sized body net.

Two shocked cries later, both males were on the ground squirming in the confines, bellowing in rage. Now, Ulrik could walk up to them, laughing, "Sorry to walk in on the party," He murmured, stooping on his haunches to untie a small portion of Jorin's net, "But I'm going to need you naked."

Malakai protested in his strains, "He's mine, you brute!", But Ulrik was way ahead of him, "Don't get your panties in a knot. I won't lay a finger on your lover...Unless he asks." Ulrik smirked and managed two hands into the net, where he began to extract articles of clothing, peice by peice, until the bare muscular bodies of men were remaining.

Now that he could manage, he retired his Infiltration regalia for the sleek fabrics of Arkeddon, stowing away most of his old clothes in a satchel, already walking away.

"What-- you're just going to leave us here like this?"

Ulrik paused in his tracks, "Oh yes, how could I forget?" Making an about face, he withdrew his sweaty, cum-stained underwear and tossed it into Malakai's face. "Now you have something to wear when the Nets wear off."

"But there's only one pair," Piped Jorin.

"Looks like you'll have to take turns."

He turned back around and resumed marching. "Toodles~."

{Zephyr}

The Fae Dragon tsked at the Druid's rudeness as he pulled on the remaining clothing (his own clothes were actually illusionary - and a very good illusion at that), and turned his attention to the two captive soldiers.

Abruptly, he grinned, his needle-sharp canines glinting a bit. It seemed very impolite to leave them like this, and thinking of his own clothing had given him an idea.

"Hold still, lovely interlopers. Wouldn't want to mess this up--" He raised both his hands, the palms glittering with a multicolored light, and muttered a few words.

In moments, the soldiers were 'clothed' in a reasonable facsimile of their stolen threads, and the Fae nodded, satisfied.

"And that, my dears, was for the lovely...'show'." He purred, causing the smaller soldier to turn bright red. "I would hurry if I were you; those clothes will only last a few hours."

He turned to follow the male, then hesitated one more time. "Oh, yes. You aren't actually wearing anything, so I'd also make sure that no one else touched you." He flashed a cheeky grin at them before skipping after the Druid, about as pleased as the cat who had eaten the songbirds.

He caught Ulrik giving him an odd glance; he shrugged. "If anything, the Fae are all about being polite," he explained, then paused. "Oh. And lots, and I do mean lots, of casual sex, and parties, and parties where you do nothing but have casual sex and fuck like rabbits."

{Ulrik}

There was curio on the Druid's brow-- the Septarius culture courses never talked about that facet of Fae life. "Remind me to verify this."

When he recovered from vexation, they were on their way towards a shortening distance, the length of the line between their location and the egress counting to a steady zero.

The scent of fire met his senses before that could happen, Arkeddon already making it's directive known as it lit and warmed up the firos-bombs.

At the fore, a massive archway, carved of toxins to keep the Atria from healing, rose into grand heights. This meant that Arkeddon had direct access to both in, and out of the Sanctuary, the droves of scarlet-clad imperialists preparing their deadly payload.

"Ready?" He eyed how close the Fae had been walking to him, eyes briefly scanning his back-end before drawing his hand to send a short brutish slap to the Fae's rear. He smirked as the resonating crack of skin forced the young one upright, "Yes, now you're walking like a soldier too."

To be fair, Ulrik would have thought of any excuse to get his hands on the Fae's cute little fanny.

{Zephyr}

The Fae yelped, jerking bolt upright and glaring - albeit playfully - at the Druid. "Now that was completely uncalled for," he muttered, pouting a bit as he hurried to catch up.

He really wanted to return the favor, but that would've certainly led to suspicion.

{Ulrik}

Ulrik slowed his pace and picked up the march of the soldiers, having stepped out from behind an overturned toxic barrel, zipping up his pants, and wiping presumably wet hands on the front.

Now they needed to keep their eyes peeled, as soldiers of all ranks marched or scurried between the supplies.

He held his plasma rifle in the same way that Malakai did, his chin stolk-straight, eyes staring ahead with a grim resolution.

Now they were passing into the fray, the shouts of orders, the murmurs of anticipation, the ceaseless movements-- the duo was so close to other soldiers they could smell their cheap aftershave, Ulrik doing his damndest to hide a simper.

They passed by tents of all shapes and sizes, the Commander's, the General's, the Admirals, the Colonels-- these were the ones made of silk, and then knew the laypeople's tents, made from mass produced canvas-- the soldier's barracks. But even these, too-- did they pass, falling back into a march that no one questioned.

They had almost stepped out of range from any sour eyes when the sound of a voice cracked their equilibrium.

"SOLDIERS!" A chill ran down Ulrik's spine, as he turned to address the speaker. "WHAT in GODS name, do you think you're DOING?"

"Following orders...Sir." Replied Ulrik, 'at attention', as they had called it.

"Oh really?" He was not amused, "And what were these orders?"

"Patrolling the area, sir."

"And who told you to--" Ulrik's face flushed, "Who told you to do these orders?"

"Ah, Commander Fe--"

The Sergeant interrupted his words, "Nevermind that! I'll be issuing you both three demerits for being out of formation. I want you two in the barracks for the remainder of the siege."

The male, his cropped black hair to crown snide eyes, "You'll have to sit out on the glory of Arkeddon as your fellow soldiers steal the prestige. I bet you won't be disobeying orders again. Now MOVE."

If you call this punishment, then I'll be disobeying your orders a lot.

With the eyes of the Sergeant on their backs, they had no other choice but to obey, or cause pandemonium and risk attracting nearby attention.

Turning away, instead of panic, Ulrik only felt a flare of heat burning between his thighs, "Well kid, looks like it's just gonna be you and me..." He couldn't have sounded more pleased.

{Zephyr}

The Sergeant's voice grated on his ears; he pressed back the urge to clap his hands to them. He was far too used to more melodic tones, and although his companion's voice was rather rough, he didn't find it as bad as this human's.

As they were ordered to sit out the siege, however, he had to quickly hide a gleeful smile.

Oh, my. Stuck in a tent, all alone, with the Druid? What a tragedy.

As they headed towards the barracks, he glanced around quickly - the Sergeant had turned his attention elsewhere - he quickly returned the smack from earlier with a pinch to the rear. The Druid flinched a bit and glared at him - clearly not expecting it - and he returned the glare with a coy grin.

"So it would seem~" The Fae Dragon purred.

{Ulrik}

"Get ahead of me," He ordered in a voice down the Fae's neck, "I like the view from behind."

As they walked back through the camp, familiar eyes caught their gaze, and Ulrik was quick to return a mask of shame, only moments before seeing the barracks, his masculinity stiffening again in the trousers.

"After you," he spoke, chivalry deadened with edge. The interior of the tent was initially dim, if it weren't for the light to slip between the weaving of cloth. Ulrik, behind the Fae, caught him from walking forward, a hand to jerk back the rim of his pants, and pull his rear end back into the male's hips.

Ulric made sure that the Fae could feel every inch of his manhood pressing into his keister, grinding him the moment the doorway's flaps closed.

He used both arms to pull the Fae's body into his own, running palms up and down his chest, a mouth to touch at the Fae's neck, before noticing something that caused him to freeze.

His eyes flashed into the eyes of the other soldier who had been in the tent-- unseen until his pupils dilated as such.

Judging by the perplexed look in his eye, he had seen exactly what the large male had done to the other. Now, Ulrik was casually removing the Fae from his body, stalking over-- menacing to the soldier who sat, hands frozen from polishing a boot.

"You're not going to tell anyone; right?" The hesitation was enough of an answer to him, Ulrick bursting into action, his body moving as one feral beast to pin the soldier onto the bed, his large body forcing him still.

Face to face, he could growl down his neck, "If you tell anyone, you know what I'm going to do?" One hand gripped at the soldier's hair, and the other one at his neck. "I'll fucking choke you to death, that's what." He let go of the solder, like he was some disease, and rolled off, wrapping a hand around his regency jacket and pushing upwards to get him off the bed. "Out." He breathed, and when the soldier didn't move immediately, Ulrik made a motion to grab him again-- the solder emitting a small peep in protest, rushing away from the male's hands and out the door as he did so.

"Finally," Ulrik yawned, falling back into the straw mattress, "Some privacy."

{Zephyr}

"You would." He smirked before obeying, winking at the male as he passed him. "Don't get too distracted, though."

The moment they entered the tent, he yelped as he was yanked back against his companion. Leaning his head back a bit, he stared up at him with half-lidded eyes and a lazy grin.

Zephyr bit his lip as he felt the Druid's hands on him, pressing back a groan as he felt him pressing against his rear, and nearly whined when he left.

The Fae watched the exchange between the two with interest, then observed the human's expression with a grin as he scurried out, stepping aside to clear a path.

He saw his savior fall back onto the mattress and made his way over to him, allowing his grip on his Otherform slip just the tiniest bit. This caused his tail to reappear, slipping out just above the hem of his trousers.

He had missed his tail quite a bit; it was quite useful in many things, especially keeping balance. When he was without it, he felt as if he were perpetually falling, which was highly unpleasant.

Abruptly, he straddled his savior, hands resting on the Druid's chest and tail curling to and fro as he grinned playfully down at the Druid.

"I did say I owed you, didn't I?" He purred, leaning down to nip at the other's bottom lip.

{Ulrik}

The male tensed as the Fae's weight settled onto his body, his own reflexes still alight as the young one straddled him, "You'd better watch yourself," Ulrik warned, his head falling back upon the pillow to reveal his flashing white canines, "I wouldn't want to hurt you." He mused, the space between his hips hardening under the Fae's hot bottom.

When the Fae didn't leave his body, out of instinct did he react, bringing massive thighs up, where he rolled, spinning two bodies in an about face on the mattress. Ulrik didn't stop until he had the Fae under his body, in a cage of arms and knees.

"It's going to be hard to take it easy on you."

As the Fae were to bite at his lip, he would return the gesture, his using a single palm to hold his face still as he kissed him roughly, using a tongue to explore the Fae's mouth. Using two arms, he flipped the Fae over onto his stomach, and from his position on his knees, slid down to completely cover the male with his body, his crotch pressed firmly against the one beneath him.

"So nice and soft under me..." He cooed, placing raindrop kisses on the back of his neck, running a finger to the edge of his collar. Tugging on the feature just so, Ulrik exposed more of the Fae's smooth back, kissing it as softly as he could manage, all the while resting his full weight into the male, one arm running under him to cup him by the belly, his hands slipping under the hem of trousers.

"You won't be needing money," He began, "To pay off your debt to me."

{Zephyr}

"I'm not made of glass, you know." He grinned up at him after their positions were flipped, reciprocating the druid's rough kiss with a playful growl.

He yipped as he was flipped onto his stomach; his tail curled, the tip caressing the other male's side with the lightest of touches.

He arched his back into the force above him, practically purring as he felt the tugging - and eventual give - of the cloth covering his body, and the lips on the skin of his back,

"Oh, really? However shall I repay such an account?" He asked innocently.

He was not 'innocent', in any way, shape, or form of the word, but he could act it.