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"... Meefala is quite young among the rest of Guardians when she is chosen to teach the element of Sound. She feels the eyes on her during the meetings, mostly from males, and it unnerves her a bit. They're all old, and they seem like darkers when they spot someone to rip apart.
And one day, well, one night, when they had to sit late, she walks home from the Guardian training grounds. Alone. She lives not too far, and the 1st class district is actually a quiet place (thanks to royal guards).
Halfway through, suddenly she feels that someone is watching her. The female lets out a few silent sound waves to determine who her follower is, and the reflections say it's a male dragon, one of her "colleagues". She tries to recall his name right, when he speaks out first.
- That's a wonderful night, isn't it, Meefala? - he tells with a strange intonation in his voice. She turns her head to confirm the image of what the waves showed her, and it's indeed him, that red striped dragon, with black underbelly and horns. He's a chief of the royal guards.
- Perhaps it is, Sir Blackclaw, - she stands, observing him as he comes closer. - But I have no time to enjoy it; I need to get to my parents, since they're worried.
- My, you're a grown up lady, and you still care about such a thing? - Doucheicus moves further, blocking her path. - You're an adult yourself. A wonderful, gorgeous lady...
- Sir, please, excuse me, I'm in a rush, - she backs away, tracing the shortcuts to her home in her head. - Plus, it's already late, and we have to be up in the palace early.
- Ah, I understand, - he mutters, taking tiny steps towards her. The dragoness is fully alerted now, her head feathers puff. - Say, what about a sleepover at my place?
- Eh?! - she yelps when his head is thrust too close for a comfort, almost touching hers. Meefala attempts to back again, only to feel the wall; there's a wall on her one side, and the fire dragon on the other. Her mind is pacing to find a way out.
- Don't be so tense, - Blackclaw breathes huskily into her ear before biting it. It sends shivers down her body, but that's just a body reaction; her head jerks, colliding with the wall due to this sudden stimuli, and she lowers it in automatic wish to check how badly it is. The dragon, however, interprets it differently and bends her down.
The female registers what's happening a few seconds later when his beard scratches her neck. Panicking, she twists the head as much as she can and screams at him.
The scream is so loud that it rings through the street. Doucheicus's weight is lifted off her as he crouches on the ground, pressing paws to his ear holes. There's blood, but he won't die, just suffer from the terrific pain and migraine for a few days... well, she hoped so.
Meefala straightens herself up quickly.
- I bend to no one, - she screams at him, knowing that he can't hear her anyway, but it'll worsen his suffering, before running away.
--
She didn't expect him to forget about her completely though and to have the other males somewhat cease their hungry glances. Could he spread a word to them?
Yet, she never goes home alone now..."
---
I was going through comments to Meefala's concept when I remembered about this thing. Accidentally it turned out into a somewhat... one-shot.
Plus, uh, Douche deserved a bit on his dirty matters, eh?
---
Douche © Xannador @ dA
Meefala, everything else © me
And one day, well, one night, when they had to sit late, she walks home from the Guardian training grounds. Alone. She lives not too far, and the 1st class district is actually a quiet place (thanks to royal guards).
Halfway through, suddenly she feels that someone is watching her. The female lets out a few silent sound waves to determine who her follower is, and the reflections say it's a male dragon, one of her "colleagues". She tries to recall his name right, when he speaks out first.
- That's a wonderful night, isn't it, Meefala? - he tells with a strange intonation in his voice. She turns her head to confirm the image of what the waves showed her, and it's indeed him, that red striped dragon, with black underbelly and horns. He's a chief of the royal guards.
- Perhaps it is, Sir Blackclaw, - she stands, observing him as he comes closer. - But I have no time to enjoy it; I need to get to my parents, since they're worried.
- My, you're a grown up lady, and you still care about such a thing? - Doucheicus moves further, blocking her path. - You're an adult yourself. A wonderful, gorgeous lady...
- Sir, please, excuse me, I'm in a rush, - she backs away, tracing the shortcuts to her home in her head. - Plus, it's already late, and we have to be up in the palace early.
- Ah, I understand, - he mutters, taking tiny steps towards her. The dragoness is fully alerted now, her head feathers puff. - Say, what about a sleepover at my place?
- Eh?! - she yelps when his head is thrust too close for a comfort, almost touching hers. Meefala attempts to back again, only to feel the wall; there's a wall on her one side, and the fire dragon on the other. Her mind is pacing to find a way out.
- Don't be so tense, - Blackclaw breathes huskily into her ear before biting it. It sends shivers down her body, but that's just a body reaction; her head jerks, colliding with the wall due to this sudden stimuli, and she lowers it in automatic wish to check how badly it is. The dragon, however, interprets it differently and bends her down.
The female registers what's happening a few seconds later when his beard scratches her neck. Panicking, she twists the head as much as she can and screams at him.
The scream is so loud that it rings through the street. Doucheicus's weight is lifted off her as he crouches on the ground, pressing paws to his ear holes. There's blood, but he won't die, just suffer from the terrific pain and migraine for a few days... well, she hoped so.
Meefala straightens herself up quickly.
- I bend to no one, - she screams at him, knowing that he can't hear her anyway, but it'll worsen his suffering, before running away.
--
She didn't expect him to forget about her completely though and to have the other males somewhat cease their hungry glances. Could he spread a word to them?
Yet, she never goes home alone now..."
---
I was going through comments to Meefala's concept when I remembered about this thing. Accidentally it turned out into a somewhat... one-shot.
Plus, uh, Douche deserved a bit on his dirty matters, eh?
---
Douche © Xannador @ dA
Meefala, everything else © me
Category Artwork (Digital) / Fantasy
Species Western Dragon
Size 1280 x 742px
File Size 114.4 kB
Comments