Chapter 75 Tired.
The howl rose among the Cliffs of Karn, raised to the same moon under which an elf and a catgirl enjoyed each other’s body.
Here, far from Hog’s Cross, another elf was having her time, but in very different circumstances, and with a very different beast.
Amaria moaned as the clan of wolfmen barked and snarled around her, their yellow eyes flashing as they watched the shapely elf writhe atop the large stone in the middle of the clearing, pale and luminous in the moonlight. Her large breasts swayed beneath her, her ass thrusting back, meeting the furry thrusts of her current lover.
The pack chieftain loomed over her and the other wolfmen. Ten feet of solid muscle, fur and fang.
Bone necklaces chimed against his toned chest, loincloth thrust aside, his tail swishing, his tongue lolling as he thrust his thick, red doggy dick deep into the rutting slut beneath him.
"Ah! Ah! Yes! Master! Master! Yessss! Mmmmm! Fuck me! Fuck your breeding bitch! Give me your pups! Master! Masterrrrrrrr!" Amaria moaned, quivering in delight, her pussy flexing and tightening in a symphony of slavish pleasure as she came for her mate.
As her inner walls clamped down, the wolfman chief threw back his head and let loose another deafening howl, announcing his climax to the clan, his cock pulsing in her, bathing her inside with his hot cum.
Amaria shuddered in delight as she felt his knot thicken, sealing his hot, bestial seed within her.
She clung to the moonstone in terrible delight, smiling, her tangled hair mussed around her face, a leather collar clasped about her throat. A savage goddess of the forest. A fertile beauty for the beasts.
She felt the swishing of a tattered cloak as the wolfman shaman came up beside them.
The chief snapped his jaws in threat, but the grey wolf merely raised a paw and slapped it against her rump.
Amaria bucked with delight, moaning as the movement tugged her against the swollen knot of the chief’s cock.
She lifted her head and looked back at the red, painted pawprint now on her ass, marking her as the chieftain’s personal fuck slut.
Amaria hummed in pleasure, resting her cheek on the cool stone. It was a shame Ava hadn’t come with her.
The other elf surely would enjoy being the chief’s breeding bitch. Amaria had borne a number of litters in her days, but it had been at least a few centuries. High time she revisit it.
In fact, stroking the stone beneath her, she thought she could feel the etchings made by the ancestors of her current mate. Etchings of curvaceous beauties with plump tits and pointed ears.
Of course, that wasn’t the only familiar thing. Amaria tilted her head, looking at the banner hung on a nearby totem, the black horns curling against a red field seeming alive in the crackling flames of bonfires. It looked like she and Ava would be meeting again soon enough.
If the reach of the Black Horde was already so far as to touch these savage brutes, it was only a matter of time before the drums of another monster war marched on New Larrin.
Amaria moaned as she felt her new master begin thrusting again, milk dripping from her nipples and onto the sacred stone. Well, Ava would get her chance soon. After all, history never repeats.
But it often rhymes.
---
Ava Copperman could always tell where she was in New Larrin by the feel of the streets.
She’d picked this up quickly in her work as a reporter for the Morning Wood.
For instance, in the slums of East Under, the roads were mainly dirt, mud, or broken cobblestone plundered from old buildings.
The High District where the nobles lived had a smooth, closely knit streets of fine stonework thanks to ample upkeep and money.
The merchant districts were of a motley collection of different roadwork thanks to the constant changing nature of the business community and its needs, and the docks were of huge, heavy blocks of stone or wooden piers.
Ava could feel that she was home when the carriage she’d hired bumped along the uneven track and to a smoother level, the road having been repaired by two competing guilds after a dragon had burned down old New Larrin.
Again.
The lovely elf straightened her blouse around her generous breasts, adjusted her hat over her bouncy golden locks, and when the carriage ground to a stop she stepped out, the cool night air bracing and a little damp.
The streets were quiet, tenement blocks rising like cyclopean ruins around them, decaying with neglect.
"Ava Copperman?"
Ava turned. "Yes? How can I..."
She trailed off, stunned a little at the sight of the woman standing nearby. Elegance didn’t do her justice.
She wore a black travelling gown, buttoned up, though the top few were open, revealing the creamy hint of pale breast.
A black ribbon was about her neck, and a filmy veil under a small hat didn’t quite hide her eyes, one covered by a monocle.
Her smiling red lips were all the more striking for the paleness of her face.
A nearby street lamp glowed fitfully, throwing the strange woman in sharp contrasts of shadows and deeper darkness. A darkness not even Ava’s elven eyes could fully penetrate.
"Riza von Lazarus. At your service."
"Um, oh! Hi, Ava Copperman," Ava said, shaking the woman’s hand, only to gasp. "Oh my gosh! Your hands are just freezing! Were you out here a long time?"
"Not so long," the pale woman said, another lift of a smile making Ava blush harder. "But you are a hard woman to find, it seems."
"I am?" Ava said.
"Mmm. But well worth it," Riza said, stepping closer. Ava leaned back, a tingle racing through her as she found herself meeting the red eyes beneath the veil.
Ava’s pulse quickened with almost animal fright, her skin tingling with electric sensitivity in the presence of this woman whose eyes she couldn’t seem to look away from.
She was shocked from her stupor as the horses of the cab nickered, stamping their hooves with a ring of metal on stone, tossing their heads in agitation.
Riza glanced at the animals, a subtle smile on her soft lips as the driver struggled to get control of them. "Perhaps we should go upstairs, Miss Copperman. No doubt you’re quite tired."