Forest Pub

"...So, I was part of the 'Happy Smiles Fun' Organization 'ansom..." She says to the bar man, a decrepit old fool raising a brow at her. Yrsa Mooncaller was plastered, a Wolf with a unique sword on her hip:



"we was bloody assassins!!" She replied, her face pink with alcohol. "*Hic* So, I was sayin... we was with the Happy Smiles FUn Orgainiaztions..." She slurred horridly, leaning over the bar table. Her large bosoms squished against the counter, an odd chest wrapping around her torso had unique, lost Zonian script on it, that unknown to most people, held back the curse which would wreath the woman in flames... had she not been wearing them. "So I was sayin... yeah, I was sayin..." She repeated, her yellow eyes staring blankly at the bottles behind the bar. "...May I has more mate?! This shiela needs a bit mo' jungal juice to open up about the Wraith Reagent's Happy Smiles Fun ORgaNizAtion!" She grinned, blushing intensely as she raised her empty... fifteenth full bottle of Vine Wine...

"Ransom?"  The old bartender questioned as he looked around the bar once to make sure none of his other patrons were in need of a refill.  His eyes returned to the heap of a kitsune planted barrel chested onto his bar counter.  The old codger was wiping a glass clean of all things as he spoke once more.

"Well sonny if it's more you want I's a be right to it, mind you stop leaning on me kegs of spirits there, though I's don't recall put any on me counter in front of me patrons."  

The last bit he said more to himself than anyone else.  For his part the old bar tender couldn't hear a word spoken to him anyway.  His ears being cut in half and stubs making it nearly impossible for more than a few words to make into his one track mind.  Of them the word more was something he had learnt to lip read over his long years in post part'em earship.  Ahem... and body language, also having only one form of drink in his establishment meant he never got the order wrong.  So the words of well endowed fox, fell quite literally on def ears.  That is of course only as it pertained to the old bar tender, the silent patron across the bar at a table in the corner was another story altogether.

Leaning back against the wall so the chain beneath'em was tilted up on two legs sat an elf, one of its telltale ears poking up through a convenient slit in its wide brimmed hat twitched as the sound of the kitsune's voice slurring out things no sane being would have admitted to outside of the Wraith Reagents court, let alone in a bar where any one could hear and report it to the Governmental Guard.  Unless of course the ones listening in were from the Governmental Guard, and the GG were every where or so they liked people to believe.

As for the elf its voice chirped up across the bar.

"The old man might not have a clue what you're saying, but you've caught my interest fuzzy face."

“Sonneh…?” She blinked, looking down at her squishy breasts. “Hah! Cheeky old coot ya are, these puppies were ya kegs, you’d have more of business in this neck of the woods mate!” She chuckled, playfully cupping them and juggled her jiggly flans.

She hears the voice to her right, and she slides around, her bushy wolf tail swaying, her ears stiffening. “Oy, wot?” She asked, blinking, still cupping her Dangerous Duos. “You say somp’tin to me mate…?” She asked, her eyes lidded, flashing bright while her face continued to look drunkenly pink.

"Said he couldn't hear ya even if ya licked the words straight into his earholes, or what's left of'em. Probably can't see passed the end of his bar counter either judging by his mistaken yah sand bags for drain-able buckets of this sludge."

Nudging the table with a foot the elf lowered the front legs of the chair back down to the floor of the pub. Stark white hair spilled out from under the wide brimmed hat flowing straight and neatly down to the elf's moderately sized breast, the only apparent clue to her gender as she brought her bare left arm up to pull the brim of her hat ever so slightly lower. Her other arm neatly tucked behind her back at the elbow appeared to end in a stump.

"Can't say this sludge set well in my gut but it's what they serve here. Ya feel like finishing mine off ya welcome to it. And frankly I wouldn't mind hear what ya have to say about them rats of the Wraith Reagent."

The drunken Okamimimi blinks, and stands up, 5’9, letting her breasts fall and jiggle. The flames which sneaked off her body here and there plumed into miniature puffs of smoke. “Wot you say about the wraith reagent, mate---” she paused, before chuckling. “Oy, forgive me- Shiela. I didn’t realize ya had a pair of boozies like yours truly all hidin’ over there like that!” She chuckled, approaching the elf. “But what do you want to know… about those bloody bastards? How they… oh, you know, half the fuckin’ population seems to ‘ave a missin’ arm?” She changes the subject quickly, lifting her right arm; the clinking sound of the metal like structure- its shape was more gauntlet like than most. She looks at her metal palm, flexing her fingers. “Weird, ain’t it mate?” She blinks stupidly at her metal appendage.

A half smile slides across her face from under the brim of her hat. The drink she could ignore, the bar tender as oblivious as ever she could ignore, the bouncing Betty of a fox on the other hand no so easily ignored.

"I hear the Wraith likes his bitches with missing limbs, must have really impressed him to loose a full arm. Well that or you were a little dirty vulpine for him, I hear he likes it grimy too sister. But let's back step for a few here and settle on talking about the rats ya spoke of being one of. I'm all ears for hearing about the wraith's little bitches club."

Crisis Rocan wrote:A half smile slides across her face from under the brim of her hat.  The drink she could ignore, the bar tender as oblivious as ever she could ignore, the bouncing Betty of a fox on the other hand no so easily ignored.

"I hear the Wraith likes his bitches with missing limbs, must have really impressed him to loose a full arm.  Well that or you were a little dirty vulpine for him, I hear he likes it grimy too sister.  But let's back step for a few here and settle on talking about the rats ya spoke of being one of.  I'm all ears for hearing about the wraith's little bitches club."

Splash...

Almost... out of instinct, Yrsa had swung one of her half empty bottles of wine towards the elf, the vine wine splashing across the woman's top. "Huh? Oh bugger, my fault mate! Totally an arm spasm!" She chuckled with anger veins popping out the side of her neck! "I mean, call'n me a whore or slut I 'ave no problem with, but I draw the line at those shape shiftin' foxes! I've been on this miserable spot o'land for Godsdamned 87 years, and still people think I'm one of those harlot vixens! I'm a bloody wolf! I mean sure the damn fires comin' off me gives that vibe an' all, but bloody hell! I'm nearly 88 fuckin' years old and I don't need this shit! Its run me fuckin' knackered!" She says, downing what was left in the bottle in heavy gulps. "Ahhhhhh...." She gasped, dropping the bottle on the counter. "See this, arm?" She began, hiccuping, raising her arm again. "The story about this is I woke up one morning...had a disagreement with it. Figured if it was best that we saw different people, be away for a while. Thing is... I can't seem to find it. Its been gone for the last, 30 or so years." She shrugged, dropping her hand onto the pommel of her sheathed katana. "As for that fuckin' chode, what 'bout 'em and his little group of fuckin' trollips, his little slutty spy ring? I told the Cap'n I couldn't handle another day in that shite hole, an I been under covah in the group for the last 30 years!.....*hic*" She hiccuped, before blinking. "Oh...shite... you din't hear that..." she says, blinking. "I mean, like...*hic-sigh* gods damn vine wine..." She bowed her head, sighing.

"Ya know it's funny you mention the Wraith with such fondness, I mean vixen vulpine it's hard to keep one leashed bitch straight with another, he has so many these days, unlike the last Wraith reagent. Now there was a fine man. He wasn't one to send off talented folk with a cheap ass blow torch that's just as like to blow up in your hand as work properly when he needs an excuse to punish someone. Ya see funny thing is..."

Slowly the elf brings her right hand out from behind her back, whole and unmarred or blemished in any way shape or form. Gripped firmly in said hand is the Wraith Reagent's favored tool for lost cause assignments, one Makeshift Flamespitter, more commonly called the Madman's Faux-pas behind the Wraith Reagent's back.

"...sister when the Wraith gives out an order it's best to just follow them and not question it. So when the bleedin madman says go hunt a grimy vixen foxy bitch down and skin her like the dog she is. Well ya know how it is... nothing personal love just bad timing and busy for ya!"

Kicking the table toward her target the elf deftly brings the Makeshift Flamespitter up squeezing back on the hair trigger as twin flames jet out toward her intended victim.

Crisis Rocan wrote:"Ya know it's funny you mention the Wraith with such fondness, I mean vixen vulpine it's hard to keep one leashed bitch straight with another, he has so many these days, unlike the last Wraith reagent.  Now there was a fine man.  He wasn't one to send off talented folk with a cheap ass blow torch that's just as like to blow up in your hand as work properly when he needs an excuse to punish someone.  Ya see funny thing is..."

Slowly the elf brings her right hand out from behind her back, whole and unmarred or blemished in any way shape or form.  Gripped firmly in said hand is the Wraith Reagent's favored tool for lost cause assignments, one Makeshift Flamespitter, more commonly called the Madman's Faux-pas behind the Wraith Reagent's back.  

"...sister when the Wraith gives out an order it's best to just follow them and not question it.  So when the bleedin madman says go hunt a grimy vixen foxy bitch down and skin her like the dog she is.  Well ya know how it is... nothing personal love just bad timing and busy for ya!"

Kicking the table toward her target the elf deftly brings the Makeshift Flamespitter up squeezing back on the hair trigger as twin flames jet out toward her intended victim.

"Ah shit... I knew I shoulda stopped at ten bottles.." she mumbled, grumbling as the woman revealed her hand... literally. "Ey, not fair! Why ya still got yours mate?!" She spat, before she found herself backing away, to evade being attacked by the flame jets! "Oy, not in the bloody pub! Its the only one thats out in this stretch of the bush!" Yrsa's wide gold eyes taking the shape of the weapon she yanked out, and remembered it was one of those thing the WR liked to hand out to his fighters who he knew were smart enough to use'em, but maybe weren't so valuable to keep alive... then again, it could be he just wanted her to suffer. Granted, she wasn't entirely afraid of the flames... given what she had become. Still, it was best to get out of the pub before she razed it to the ground! "Told ya, I'm not a bloody fox! Crikey, I swear I'm gonna---" She turned green for a moment, her stomach lurching. "Urrkk..." She keeled over, running out of the pub, her bushy tail between her legs, her ears folded down. "Gonnna be sick..." she groaned, her blade tapping against her thigh as she keeled over towards a nearby bush, while flames climbed the walls of the bar behind her.

Soon enough the elf walked out of the pub, flames burning freely everywhere around her. In one hand she held the Makeshift Flamespitter in the other, a Sword made of what appeared to be bone and horns of some unknown beast in the other. Expendable perhaps, but not easy prey by any means. She stood in the door way watching as the she bitch she hunted doubled over to heave up her guts all full of alcohol.

"Fox dog, bitch it's all canine in the end sister, and ya drew the short straw on the Wraith's shit list. As for me I don't beg for anything, nothing man or beast would convince me to crawl to the that pig for favors. So I still have my limbs as ya can plainly see. Shame though sister, I was taking a fancy to ya, but that's the Wraith for ya, always making folk go after the ones they might have an interest in. Who's to say if it was distrust of ya or just disgust with ya. I'm not one to question my orders... Some of us are just good at what we do... and Sister I'm just that good at it!"

With that she leveled the flamespitter once again, but not at her target, this time she used it to corral her prey, blocking off routes of escape. and narrowing the field of possible combat, before advancing with her sword and flamespitter both at the ready.

She wiped her mouth with her metal arm. “Ey… I told ya… not to call me a fox…” she says, turning around, smirking. “Hmm… Sorry Shiela, you ain’t my type... if you have a bit more meat on your bones, and you didn’t call me a bloody fox… maybe.”

She yanked up her sword, sliding the card accessory hanging off the pommel across the odd slot above the blade. “Elemental Access Denied… please wait . . . . . approximately 5 hours. The Governmental Guard has your back, thank you, Lieutenant Mooncaller. Have a nice day!”

Yrsa grumbled at this, palming her face. She set the damn thing’s security off somehow… probably showing off to pick up potential mates. She sighed. “Bugger… ey, you know… I hate to ask, but… you got a card on ya?” She asked. “Like credit, debit.. ChipSetPlus? Ah bugger, forget it…” She says, pointing the blade at an angle towards her. “So… how about you drop that little flame spittah… it's not gonna work, I don’t burn easily…” she warned.

As the flames spread around them she walked down the few steps of the pub into the forest ablaze around them.  Pointing the flamspitter straight at her prey she smiled only slightly as she spoke, mentally counting the seconds until this came to a quick crispy end.

"Sister, ya can blame a gal for mistake one canine for another specially when ya spouting fire off yah pretty flesh like a regularly mud romping fox.  Now ya seem to be mistaking my intentions, this flamesplitter is a far superior weapon to that unreliable garbage the the GG's issue.  Lucky if ya tools even shoot off once, let alone at all.  Now say ya prayers and kiss yah darlin ass goodbye sister, cause now you roast like a proper pig on a spit."

She pulls the trigger of the Flamespitter once more only to see the nothing proceed out of either barrel of the makeshift weapon.  

"Oops spoke just a moment too soon, well figures it's just like that dwarf river rat, always coming up short and failing in clutch moments huh sister... you'd know all about that puppy doggin around behind him licking on command.  Well I guess we go to uncivilized method to finish this."

Tossing aside the clearly useless piece of Wraith reagent garbage, she charged forward blade angled back and down at the ready, making a quick thrust as though slicing shifting the very air around them with her slash..

“Urg, don’t tell me what I already know Shiela! I’ve had to work with shit equipment on both sides of the fence! However, to get to my rank, you learn that sometimes it’s best not to rely on the system for everything… some things, you just gotta bloody do with your own hands!” She chuckled.

As the flamespitter spittled to a halt, Yrsa laughed riotously. “Ah, you’re seriously a grade A bitch, ya’know that? Here I though ya knife eared bitches were just arrogant cunts, well… ya still are.” She chuckles, before the woman came at her! She parries the blade, the slicing wind was enough to douse her floating flames! She whistled in an impressed manner, as she side steps, sparks coming off her katana as she struck out with her leg towards the Elf’s back! She moved in an odd, drunken grace that was both formless yet elegant...

One foot in the back one pair of lips just narrowly missing the flames, as she came to a sliding halt trying to regain her balance. Jabbing the tip of her blade into the ground she pivots spinning around the two and half foot hilt of her long sword as if pole dancing was a natural skill. Flames kissing her clothes throughout the acrobatic maneuver she rights herself only to she the first motions of a drunkin fighter.

"Great lush fighting on top of being a natural bitch... some of us actually had to work to obtain our level of skills sister. Ah what the hell might as well go all out with ya, might get a little lucky too."

Pulling her sword free she dislodged a pile of dirty from the forest floor flicking it up as she charged in again aiming a series of slashes at the mid rift and waist of her opponent as that was the hardest part of the body to slink around out of the way even with a drunken fist technique.

She bobbed her head to the side, dirt flecking across her shoulder, back stepping and bringing her blade up and parrying the strikes as she came in hard on her! “Huh, you learn those pole skills from the Reagent as well?” She smirked. She clashes the blade with her elven opponent, leaning into the woman’s attacks, holding her blade with her left hand, her metal right hand striking out in a curled fist, striking under the Elf’s chest! “Huh..” She squeezed the breast, observing the pliable nature. “You look springy~” She teased.

"Nah, just like watching the sisters work in the upper markets back rooms. Dancing is a tradition form of fighting or s a few obscure legends tel..."

She wasn't quick enough to dodge the metal fist as it came, only enough to back step away from taking the full force of the blow, her modest sized chest getting the raw end of the deal instead. It felt like slapping her bare breast against a a wall in winter. The sensitivity sending all the wrong signals to her brain at that very moment, and not merely because her opponent had gone from impact to groping curiously. She hesitated out of pleasurable sensitivity before knocking the stiff metal hand away from her chest with the hilt of her long sword with a staff strike before moving backward to give herself some room, and a chance to get her head out from between her opponents legs mentally. An image that was far more distracting to her then it should have been, she glared as she spoke.

"Some of us are naturally modest with our bodies. But I wouldn't do that again if I were ya sister, it could end badly and I'd hate to have to butcher ya."

Crisis Rocan wrote:"Nah, just like watching the sisters work in the upper markets back rooms.  Dancing is a traditional form of fighting or so a few obscure legends tel..."

She wasn't quick enough to dodge the metal fist as it came, only enough to back step away from taking the full force of the blow, her modest sized chest getting the raw end of the deal instead.  It felt like slapping her bare breast against a a wall in winter.   The sensitivity sending all the wrong signals to her brain at that very moment, and not merely because her opponent had gone from impact to groping curiously.  She hesitated out of pleasurable sensitivity before knocking the stiff metal hand away from her chest with the hilt of her long sword with a staff strike before moving backward to give herself some room, and a chance to get her head out from between her opponents legs mentally.  An image that was far more distracting to her then it should have been, she glared as she spoke.

"Some of us are naturally modest with our bodies.  But I wouldn't do that again if I were ya sister, it could end badly and I'd hate to have to butcher ya."

She nodded. "Aye, it is a traditional form of fightin', but you know... I think its time we bring this tango up a few notches..." She says, partly removing the bindings on her left arm, engulfing her entire arm and blade in crimson flame! "...modesty only hinders the flames of my body, I hate to see wot ya look like burnt to a crisp when I'm finished with ya, mate~" She smirked, before rushing for the woman, striking with her flaming katana, the flames roaring as she swung her blade repeatedly towards her in a series of rapid slashes. "Even if me blade don't hit ya, the flames will slowly cook ya alive, shiela!" She sneered, reaching for her opponent's sword with her metal hand with the intention of halting her opponent's counter!

"Fried fox sounds nice sister, wouldn't mind see ya' sun kissed before I regretfully end ya."

As Yrsa's metal hand catches the horn and bone sword, the Elf shifts her weight bringing up its hilt to block the flaming left arm and sword. With a slight grin and one eye peeking out from under her hat she winks at Yrsa. As something stirs around them both.

"Now sister, who said I'd let yah pretty flaming fur even rub me the right way.?"

Eerily all around the wind dies out completely for a moment as the flames move closer toward the elvish woman. Then the eye of the elf reopens after winking; it has turned to liquid blood, oozing like the air bubbles in a lava lamp rising and falling in slow but steady progression. A solitary curtain of air brushes passed blowing her hair up off her chest into the air as the half cape on her left shoulder flaps in the wind. The flames of Yrsa, are pushed back blown by the wind in the opposite direction rather than toward her as they would have otherwise.

Yrsa jumps back, her flames consuming her… only for her body to reappear practically untouched; her clothes a little blackened here and there, but they were fire treated thanks to her unique curse. She whistled, impressed by the elf’s abilities. “Well now, thats kinky. You dated a lot of goths in highschool? No, wait, you were one, weren’t ya?” She chuckled. Her flames continued to belt out from her arm, her metal hand cupped around the pommel of her katana. Her lidded gold eyes glared at her from beyond her crimson flames, her torso leaned forwards, her boots grinding against the ground. “Why ya holdn’ back on me shiela? You running out of moves?” She chuckled, her fangs hidden by her burning arm. Her stance was defensive and low...

"Nah sister I just like seeing ya get low for me. Something powerfully hot about ya dropping down in front of me. Mama always say don't play with ya food... well sister ya ain't food, but I'm still tempted to play with ya good and long before I fulfill my duty to the stink fish of a Wraith. So you'l forgive me for holding back, not that you're one to talk, keepin it all on and in like ya are!"

With a smile she steps back bringing her blade to a horizontal rest across her palms. Shaking her head to slide her hat back down across her eyes, to conceal once more the only clue to when she uses her wind abilities, she smiles all the more.

"So how ya want to die sister, on your knees like a fox, or on yah back like a good little bitch?"

Crisis Rocan wrote:"Nah sister I just like seeing ya get low for me.  Something powerfully hot about ya dropping down in front of me.  Mama always say don't play with ya food... well sister ya ain't food, but I'm still tempted to play with ya good and long before I fulfill my duty to the stink fish of a Wraith.  So you'l forgive me for holding back, not that you're one to talk, keepin it all on and in like ya are!"

With a smile she steps back bringing her blade to a horizontal rest across her palms.  Shaking her head to slide her hat back down across her eyes, to conceal once more the only clue to when she uses her wind abilities, she smiles all the more.  

"So how ya want to die sister, on your knees like a fox, or on yah back like a good little bitch?"

Yrsa's eyes flashed with insight, as she watches the woman carefully. "Shiela, I've told ya," she darted forwards, her flames engulfing her body as she brings up the hour glass bouncing against her thigh, and smashes it across the flaming sword, the flames getting hotter, and the sand spreading across the blade, seemingly fusing with it as she swung in a wide arc! The sand was like an extension of the blade as she swung, increasing its fiery reach by another two or three feet! Any sand that hit the Elf was rigid, burning of course, and felt jagged like a serrated tooth or knife running across the flesh! Any sand that broke off somehow, sticks to the clothes or limbs, the flames burning hotter off the specks that clung to its victims! Hot Iron Sand was what some called it, but it had other names. "-I'm a wolf!!" Yrsa swung a second time, and then came in with a diagonal slash!

Sand splashed across her field of vision only just barely being dodged as she deliberately fall backward tumbling to an almost safe distance as the increased length of the blade nicked her sword arm as the second cut came diagonally across in front of her.  An weight settled on her arm as she bounced sideways out of her attackers immediate field of vision and attack range.  Tucking into a roll she planted her feet as they touched the ground on her second rotation sideways.  Lunging forward she lashed out a pair of strikes too far away to even touch her opponents extended blade.  Each slice pulling the air behind it into a vacuum inducing cut.  As the air strikes connect with objects a small forceful blast of air slams into them, while the vacuum like suction that follows the impact of the initial strike tears into everything the wind slash connects with.  Flesh cut by the air strike is ripped and torn deeper and further apart by the force of the vacuum, blood from open wounds is sucked out rather than just normal bleeding.  

"You're back it is sister, but you're too foxy for the title of mutt.  A shame though, every minute this fight drags on longer is another minute I get to enjoy you, love... one dingo or a another, your fiery fox like temperament is pure pleasure."

Before the wind slashes even reached her opponent she back stepped and continued to keep her distance while occasionally sending another pair of wind slashes toward her, but never with the same pair of cuts.

Crisis Rocan wrote:Sand splashed across her field of vision only just barely being dodged as she deliberately fall backward tumbling to an almost safe distance as the increased length of the blade nicked her sword arm as the second cut came diagonally across in front of her.  An weight settled on her arm as she bounced sideways out of her attackers immediate field of vision and attack range.  Tucking into a roll she planted her feet as they touched the ground on her second rotation sideways.  Lunging forward she lashed out a pair of strikes too far away to even touch her opponents extended blade.  Each slice pulling the air behind it into a vacuum inducing cut.  As the air strikes connect with objects a small forceful blast of air slams into them, while the vacuum like suction that follows the impact of the initial strike tears into everything the wind slash connects with.  Flesh cut by the air strike is ripped and torn deeper and further apart by the force of the vacuum, blood from open wounds is sucked out rather than just normal bleeding.  

"You're back it is sister, but you're too foxy for the title of mutt.  A shame though, every minute this fight drags on longer is another minute I get to enjoy you, love... one dingo or a another, your fiery fox like temperament is pure pleasure."

Before the wind slashes even reached her opponent she back stepped and continued to keep her distance while occasionally sending another pair of wind slashes toward her, but never with the same pair of cuts.

Yrsa still had some hot iron sand build up on her blade, swiftly evading the wind slashes, her flames getting a little hotter when she tugged on one of her straps of her bandages! She spun like a flaming tornado that only got hotter as she enveloped her opponent's wind, and came in for another strike! She clashed against her enemy's blade, pushing the elf back with enough force to knock her onto her back! The flaming whirl descended, and with her thighs now gripping the elf's sides, Yrsa stood over the head hunter, smirking, blade poised to plunge down! "...who's back?" She cooed. The wolf-kin straddled the elf almost playfully, pinning the woman down. Yrsa's sword tip pressed against the Elf's chin, the blade poised to plunge into the woman's jugular! "Yeah... twas a pleasure, heh heh..." She sneered, the bar burning to the left of her, as she debated what to do with her catch. Clearly, she couldn't just let her go...

The Lagoon Jargas crawled its way through the jungle, groggy after sleeping for 12 hours on the sunny beach of Lagoon Valley, and was working its way through the jungle... for food. It was a female, whose eggs had recently hatched, the little 'dragons' as the locals had called them skittering out, to fend for themselves. This meant she hadn't eaten... in a long while. At least six months... working off the big bear fur she had come across six months before... but those reserves were depleted, and the little monsters out for themselves now, she was quite ravenous. The scent and taste of fire crossed her nose and flicking forked tongue, and the Jagras lifted its head and looked about. Fire was usually a bad thing, something to avoid... but she could also taste the salt of sweat, the coppery taste of blood... and she knew that meant food.

She progressed through the bamboo and palms... before appearing at the scene of the fire. There was a pair of the two leggers, that claimed much of this land as their home, the 'top' of the triangle, or so they thought... they were on top one another, and she recognized the one on the ground as being a 'long ear'. The long ears were not very tasty, too lithe, too frail, too thin and tall for her taste. The other on top however, who was facing the female Jargas holding the shiny pointed stick... had animal fur.



Being closer to the animals she normally ate, the Jagras was quite satisfied with settling its hunger with her! With quick motion, the lizard bursts from the forest, whipping out its long, snake like tongue with a shake of her large head! The pink muscle shot out, wrapping around the two legged wolf's waist as she was raising her pointed stick, the tongue becoming taut, before retracting with her prize towards her gaping jaws!

"HISSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!!" the monster hissed, a moist tunnel of flesh would fill Yrsa's vision, while the Elf below felt scales press against her face, pushing her into the soft dirt below them, saliva dripping onto her face and neck before the scales slid over! She snapped her jaws closed around Yrsa's back!

She was about to plunge the blade down, when she heard a noise from the edge of the greenery ahead of her. She glanced up, and saw the widening jaws of the beast as it charged for her! The tongue which shot out and wrapped around her threw her off guard! "Whaaa?! AHHH!" She screamed, feeling the sticky, icky muscle go taut, and pull her off the elf, diving head first into the gaping throat! Darkness, and moistness, her jacket falling off her shoulders, over the assassin, her arms hooking the corner's of the lizard's stinking maw!

"Mmmmmmmmmmmmph?!" Came her muffled cries, her long, shapely legs kicking fiercely and her tail folding between said legs, feeling the jaws clamp onto her back! "What the hell?!" She hissed, blind in the humid tunnel of flesh, kicking and squirming! Her fingers gripping the scales, realizing she had dropped her sword somewhere in mid grapple with the Jagras!