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.
“I did, can’t say I’ve ever seen someone give a Fey Dragon a blowjob before, not that I’m judging by any means.”
Lex’s assurance that the Glade of the Forest Mother’s Daughters being “not far” proved relative to the speed at which she could travel upon her agile mount. For Leeria, forced to traverse the uneven and overgrown terrain on foot upon a gradually rising slope, it proved a far more arduous task, even for a Ranger of her skill. Upon multiple occasions the Fey and her steed were forced to alite upon a branch or jutting stone to allow their earth-bound charge to catch up, Diglo becoming more and more agitated as her slowness deprived him longer and longer of his promised reward upon their journey's conclusion.