Part One: A Reunion Marred

NSFW Disclaimer: Strong sexual content and implied bestiality.

Disclaimer: I do not own the cover image.

Here follows is part one of the second entry in the “Forest Mother Saga.” If you have not yet read “The Forest Mother Saga: Book One: Corruption” I heartily encourage you to do so or else miss out on the complete narrative. You can find the links to both entries, as well as other works of mine, on the sidebar on the righthand side of the main page of my blog, or else at the bottom if you are using a cellular device. Also, there you will find a link to my Buy Me A Coffee page which I shall also put here: https://www.buymeacoffee.com/FireSideTales . Please consider making a donation to this fevered mind of mine to bolster the creation of future works. Thank you!

Like a feral cat, an alluringly beautiful woman, dressed in tight-fitting leather armor, trimmed in green, a woodland cloak draped about her shoulders, crept through the underbrush of the sparse forestlands. Though youthful to all appearances, her olive skin unblemished and long, brown locks untouched by even a single grey or white strand, the curving point of her long ears and depths of her chestnut eyes bespoke an age far elder than her visage suggested. Beyond this, her light, measured steps and comfort with which she handled the deftly crafted longbow in her elegant hands, suggested a veritable lifetime of perfected craft. As it currently stood, said perfected craft was focused entirely on a young buck standing at the center of a small clearing littered with wildflowers before her. 

Slowly lowering one of her knees to the forest floor, she carefully leveled her shot. Just as the tip of her arrow aligned with the center of the beast’s breast it started, its legs locking and its majestic head jerking towards her. 

Her eyes widening, the woman spun, discerning immediately that it was not she, but rather something, or someone, behind her who had startled the beast. As soon as she twisted, however, she saw a shadow looming above her and knew immediately that she would be unable to bring her weapon to bear before her assailant was upon her. Making a split-second decision, she loosed her arrow, deftly catching the missile before it could truly fly, just as she landed heavily on her back, her attacker bearing down atop her.

As her foe’s surprisingly scant weight landed upon her, she felt the cold kiss of a blade’s edge against her throat as a head of rich, scarlet locks filled her vision and a pair of wild, emerald eyes locked with hers, eyes she very much recognized.

“Kyra!?” She blurted in disbelief, the fullness of the other woman’s face coalescing about her madcap gaze. 

Upon her name being spoken, the newcomer’s youthful visage broke into a wide grin. 

“Can’t believe I got the drop on you Kay,” she beamed, before wagging a playful finger in her victim’s face, her features contorting into a mask of mock disapproval.

“A Ranger must never lower their guard lest they fall victim to that which they hunt,” she said in the grumbling tone of an old tutor.

“I suppose that’s meant to be me,” Kay frowned before shoving the tip of the arrow she yet held in her hand against her counterpart’s stomach, alerting the other woman to her own imminent demise.

At the sight of the arrowhead drawing a rivulet of blood from her toned midriff, Kyra laughed aloud. Despite herself, Kay smiled at the joyful sound. She had to admit, that at least she had missed.

No sooner had the small smile graced her lips then Kyra brought her own to bear, pressing them fully and insistently against those of the woman beneath her, her tongue demanding entrance. 

As ever, the other woman’s forthrightness took Kay aback, though she knew that it really shouldn’t by then. Though possessing the same long, pointed ears and almond-shaped eyes, marking her as a kindred elf, Kyra’s youthful complexion fully suited the age she bore. Where Kay was collected, Kyra was excitable, where Kay was reserved, Kyra was outgoing and sociable, and where Kay smoldered, Kyra raged as fierce as any wildfire. 

After the briefest of hesitations, Kay responded in kind to the other woman’s kiss, parting her lips and, catching her lover’s lower lip between her teeth, bit down gently. This elicited an animalistic growl from Kyra who immediately dropped her blade and began to hastily undo the many buckles that held Kay’s armor in place. Taking advantage of her distraction, Kay hooked a leg about Kyra’s waist and simultaneously pulling her supporting arm out from under her, expertly flipped the younger elf onto her back. As she did this, the straps Kyra had loosed popped fully open, allowing her heavy breasts to fall free of their strict confines, her dark nipples waiving tantalizingly in front of her lover’s shocked face.

“And I thought I needed this,” Kyra gasped, clearly appreciating the role reversal. 

In response, Kay grasped a fistful of the other woman’s hair and pulled her eager mouth to suckle at an offered nipple, fast hardening in the open air. She moaned aloud as her lover took to her task with gusto, arching her back as she felt Kyra’s nimble fingers undoing the catch of her belt. 

As deftly as she had unfastened the latches of the leather armor, so too did the belt yield to her touch, falling away to allow her hand to push within, over the mound of moistened, heated curls and to the wet, scalding tunnel hidden within. With two fingers she wrenched a more strangled moan from Kay, bringing a satisfied smirk to the lips that yet held fast to the other woman’s teat. 

Falling more heavily upon her prostrate comrade, Kay brought the arrow she yet clutched to bear, cutting through the simple leather thongs that held the other woman’s leather bodice together with its razor tip. Peeling the ruined piece of clothing open, she gripped tightly one of Kyra’s smaller, firmer breasts, teasing its strawberry tip between her thumb and forefinger, extracting a kindred moan to reverberate against her own besieged bosom.

Pulling her fingers from her lover, Kyra gripped the fabric of the older ranger’s leggings, tugging them down as she popped the nipple from her mouth. Shimmying southward, leaving a trail of sloppy kisses across Kay’s taut stomach, she buried her face hungrily betwixt her thighs, the heady scent of her cunt filling her nostrils as her tongue plumbed its depths before retracting to tease the hardened bud above.

Gasping the name of every forest spirit she knew, Kay gripped a low-hanging branch for support as a long-withheld orgasm ripped through her, her grip amidst her lover’s locks tightening further under the administrations of Kyra’s ever so talented tongue. 

A moment later, as her vision cleared somewhat, Kay pulled herself away from the younger woman’s yet-esurient mouth, heedless of her disappointed mewls. Retaining her grip on her lover’s hair, she flipped her over and, mounting her from behind, began to peel away the tight, laced leggings she wore, Kyra’s formerly objecting noises turning quick to ones of appreciation at the new direction.

Barring the younger elf’s ass, Kay gave it a playful, yet insistent smack. In response, Kyra bent over further, pushing her hindquarters towards her lover so that the cheeks parted, and her pussy opened like a budding tulip. 

At the sight, Kay ducked in, unable to resist the offering. Teasing around the lips, hearing her lover moan, she dipped her tongue within, pushing as far as she could and swirling, covering each of her tastebuds in the flavor of the other ranger’s sex, before drawing back and inserting two fingers. Pumping them first slowly, then faster and harder, she bore down upon her lover’s back, pushing her harder into the leaf-litter beneath them, her moans echoing about the woodlands around them.

Shortly thereafter, the two collapsed side-by-side in the bushes, their chests heaving, their skin glistening with sweat.

“By the earth spirits, Kay, I needed that,” Kyra gulped, her eyes closed as the last reverberations of her own climax ran through her.

Despite herself, Kay chuckled softly. 

“I suppose I did too,” she admitted. “It’s been a while, Ky, how’d you track me down?”

In response, the younger elf lifted a medallion that hung upon a fine chain around her neck, the image upon it depicting a moon rising from behind an obscuring cloud. It was the insignia of the Sisterhood of the Rising Moon, a loose collective of rangers and druids of which they were both a part.

“I’m a ranger, dumbass,” the younger woman smirked, wiggling the medallion upon its chain. “Besides you tend to favor this part of the country, so I figured it was a safe bet.”

By ‘this part of the country’ Kyra meant the forestlands that clung to the western slopes of the Zephyr Mountains before giving way to the Vast and Verdant Vales, a land of rolling downs, misted moors and secretive, wooded dells. Though civilized and inhabited by many folk, the Verdant Vales were owned by no singular ruler. Nor were the woodlands that bordered them, though the High Elven Kingdom of Zephyrion claimed ownership of the soaring peaks above.

“Don’t forget who taught you much of those skills you boast of,” Kay chided, sitting up and beginning to buckle up her disheveled clothing. 

“The “Great” Kaylin True-Shot of course,” Kyra chuckled.

“I have asked you not to call me that,” the older ranger snapped, standing to readjust her belt.

“I’m sorry,” Kyra was quick to contrition, remembering all too well the argument that had sent them on their individual journeys several months before. “It’s just…is it so bad that the younger rangers look up to you? You were one of the best trainers the guild ever had you know.”

Kay said nothing as she went about retrieving her bow and discarded arrow. As she did, a soft rustling in a nearby tree caused her to whirl, the arrow sliding home once more to level with wherever it was that had made the offending noise.

For a moment nothing moved, then a further rustling had Kay calling out.

“Whatever lurks on yonder branch come forth!” She said, loudly and clearly. 

When nothing immediately replied, Kyra, who had risen and now held her twin, wickedly curved daggers at the ready, innocently asked, “could it not be a squirrel?”

The withering glare she received from her counterpart as way of reply had her rolling her eyes. 

“Very well then,” she sighed before calling out, “come on out now squirrel! We promise not to eviscerate you on sight.”

Now it was Kaylin’s turn to roll her eyes, but she focused quickly when the rustling commenced anew. Both rangers stood ready, and Kay almost let her arrow fly when, out from their leafy veil, hopped a curious looking creature with a bedraggled, diminutive woman seated upon its back. 

Roughly the size of a fox, the creature could only be a faerie dragon. Its body was covered in a soft, reddish fur, whilst its legs and long tail were bestrewn with scaling of the deepest blue. Cat-like eyes holding a quizzical, mischievous intelligence gazed forth from a head that bore the appearance of some queer bird and lizard hybrid, with a magnificent plumage of green feathers coloring its long neck. Well known to be reclusive and skittish, the sight of the faerie dragon was in and of itself a wonder, but combined with the small, Fae woman upon its back it was truly a marvel to behold.

Standing at roughly the same length of Kay’s forearm, the Fae woman had skin of lavender milk and a shock of spikey hair bearing a much more violent shade of purple. Her large, amber eyes starred forth from a pointed, mischievous face. Her clothing, all of which was hand-made from fur and leaf, was badly scorched and torn and she looked as though she hadn’t had a decent meal in days. Despite this, she yet held herself in a stiff-backed, dignified manner as she faced the rangers.

For a long moment no one spoke until Kyra, unable to maintain a defensive stance in the face of such an unthreatening duo, straightened and, indicating the newcomers with the point of one of her blades, said to Kay, “well it’s no squirrel.”

“I most certainly am not, thank you very much,” the Fae woman piped indignantly as Kay lowered her bow. Puffing out her chest, she continued. 

“My name is Lexhalla Vendrianna Shell, and this here,” she indicated her mount, “is Diglo.”

“I prefer his name,” Kyra said. “Less of a mouthful.”

“You may call me Lex if that is easier for your tongue to manipulate, though, from what I just witnessed, your tongue had little trouble manipulating when properly inspired.”

Kay reddened slightly at the Fae’s observation, but Ky remained unphased, merely shrugging in acceptance to the smaller woman’s point. 

“You are obviously far from home, Lex,” the older ranger said, eager to get past the exchange. “Is there something with which we might assist you? Or was your presence upon the branch merely an act of voyeurism?”

Now it was the Fae’s turn to redden.

“I was here first, in truth,” she said. “I had taken time to rest, Diglo here was in need of…relief. It wasn’t until she attacked you that I took notice and was preparing to leap to your aid when it became clear that the two of you were previously acquainted.”

“And you figured you’d stay for the show?” Kyra smirked.

“Diglo wasn’t finished,” Lex said defensively. “Plus, the display you too were putting on only increased his need for…relief.”

Kay and Ky exchanged a quizzical look before realization dawned on them both and the younger ranger jabbed the tip of her blade once more at the Fae.

“Were you jerking him off?” She asked.

Lex cleared her throat uncomfortably at the question before continuing as though it hadn’t been asked, though she did surreptitiously wipe her hands upon the remnants of her skirt.

“We were getting ready to leave,” she said. “When I spotted the medallions you wore. You’re rangers aren’t you? Of the Sisterhood of the Rising Moon?”

“We are,” Kaylin nodded. “Have you need of our aid?”

“Well actually it’s one of your own that needs it,” Lex replied. “I come on behalf of Leeria, who has fallen into great peril!”

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