<Love is in the Air - 2021>

	Despite the Lunar Festival being in full swing, numerous strands of heart-shaped, paper cutouts were being strung up alongside the moon-like lights across the buildings of the Moonglade.  Patrons with fanciful dresses and neatly-tailored suits could be seen milling about the throng of robed celebrants, many of which had paired off into couples during their visit to the glade.  Many simply took seats around the large pool at the glade's center to enjoy each other's company, but aside from that, the Cenarion Circle was largely ignored by the jubilant lovers.

	A few days had passed since the celebration of the new year, and Drenan and Lyrah had been graciously offered temporary lodging by the ever-benevolent Shele.  The druidess' home wasn't much to look at from the outside -her front door was barely visible among a tangle of thick, lush vines that otherwise concealed the bulk of the hollowed-out cliffside- but the interior of the cliff was well-furnished and covered with spongy, clean moss.  Several comfortable, tauren-sized rooms were linked together by curtained archways, and within the furthest room the tauren couple had been set up, where Lyrah happily snoozed in late that particular morning.

	Lyrah's eyes fluttered open slowly as a warm ray of midday sunlight filtered into the stone-shaped room, let in by a small opening in the ceiling.  A soft moan escaped her lips as the naked shaman stretched her arms above her head, letting the covers fall to her waist.  As she reached for her father, however, she quickly realized the bed was devoid of the muscular bull she was so very fond of.  "Daddy...?" she called quietly, but the room was far too small for him to be hiding anywhere.  Perplexed, Lyrah quickly dug out one of Shele's old druidic robes -a gift so she wasn't forced to wear that plain, horrid poncho from Gadgetzan- and slipped it over her curvaceous form.  It was a curve-hugger considering Shele was not nearly the size of Lyrah, but it was enough to give her some meager modesty as she left her loaned room.

	Down the hall, a gentle, rhythmic squeaking noise met her ear.  Ever curious, Lyrah tip-hoofed quietly across the stone floor, the sound growing louder as she neared the archway to Shele's room.  Her curtains were left parted, and without much fear the shaman dared to poke her horned head around the corner to peer into the room.

	Upon the bed, the sight of a naked Soren met Lyrah's gaze first, while an equally naked Shele had herself seated upon her son's bare lap, happily bouncing up and down atop his girthy tool.  Both of her hands were latched onto her own breasts as she smiled down at her son, while cooes of encouragement left from her lips as she tantalizingly played with herself atop him.  Soren seemed no less enthusiastic as his hands latched onto her bare rump, squeezing tight as he helped pull her down onto himself again and again.  Shele's back was turned to Lyrah, however, and seemed oblivious to the peeping shaman... but Soren was just aware enough to catch sight of her, and let out a gasp of surprise the moment he noticed her.  "Mom...!"

	Shele's bouncing ceased as she seated herself tight onto his lap, her head turning to glance back at Lyrah with a coy smirk.  "Well, good morning little miss sunshine," she purred with a laugh that melted into a sudden moan.  Her body trembled as Soren let out a deep, drawn-out groan as he unexpectedly unloaded himself deep inside his own mother, his spent seed suddenly spurting from their tight connection.  Shele let out a soft moan of delight herself as a ripple of pleasure shot through her as well, but as it subsided she nonchalantly regarded the peeping Lyrah again.  "Looking for the old bull I take it?"

	Lyrah's cheeks were flushed hot with color, but she couldn't take her eyes off the naked couple.  Love truly was in the air, apparently.  "Y-yeah... have you seen him?"

	"He said something about poking around the garden when he left this morning," Shele remarked as she reached down and gave her son's balls a soft squeeze.  "I would check the kitchen, dear.  He might've left something for you."  All Soren could do was writhe beneath his mother, panting heavily as he gave her every last drop he had in him.

	"Thanks, Shele," Lyrah returned, and without another word she quickly hurried off, leaving mother and son to continue their 'bonding' in privacy.

	The small kitchen had only a little table with four chairs at its center, but upon it was a small folded card with a, frankly, poorly-drawn heart on it.  The shaman flipped the card open to find written on it:

	[i]Come find me if you can, darling.  I love you.[/i]

	Lyrah's brow arched in surprise, then a giddy smile crossed her face.  One of her favorite games as a child had been scavenger hunts and searches, and each year she used to look forward to Drenan upping the difficulty bit by bit.  Sometimes he'd leave written clues, but in later years she had to be a bit more skillful of her observations, and she was fairly certain she'd already been given her first clue.  The shaman was all smiles as she bolted out Shele's front door and into the heart of the Moonglade, quickly making for the garden Shele had mentioned beforehand.

	Throughout the glade, many patrons coupled together and were in the midst of fanciful picnics and expressions of love.  Many of the younger couples were tongue-deep down each other's throats, while the older couples seemed simply happy to hold each other's hands.  The wars meant nothing in the face of love, and Alliance and Horde had no qualms sitting side by side for the time being.  All along the paths, blankets were strewn about with lovers amid mid-morning brunches, while others had already concealed themselves with additional blankets for... other purposes.

	Despite this, Lyrah tried her best to keep her mind clear and focused... and halfway through her trek, she realized that the Moonglade didn't [i]have[/i] a designated garden for flowers and the like.  "Hmm..." she mumbled to herself and started to turn in a slow circle along the path, her chin cupped in one hand as she scrunched her brow in thought.  "Garden... garden... grr-den!" she proclaimed as she settled her gaze on the entrance to Timbermaw Hold.  The local furbolgs had actually been quite friendly to the Lighthands during their time in Azshara, some of which had even brought Lyrah back home once or twice when she'd wandered off.  Before she knew what they were as a child, she'd often referred to Timbermaw Hold as the grr-den, and with absolute certainty she took off for the Hold and passed between the guardian furbolgs without fuss.

	A number of the furbolgs she passed even recognized Lyrah, despite not having seen her for a good seven or eight years.  Many of the furbolgs were even paired off and holding hands, and a few noisy, echoing grunts down smaller tunnels made apparent that even more bestial races were capable of intimate love.  The shaman almost felt at home as she passed through their winding, twisting tunnels, until she'd reached the very heart of the Hold.  "Is that little miss Lighthand?" called a sudden, raspy-sounding voice in faint Orcish.

	Lyrah turned and smiled brightly at the elder, dark-furred furbolg.  "It is!  It's good to see you, Gorn.  You haven't seen my father around today, have you?"

	Gorn One Eye smiled back and pointed down a nearby tunnel.  "I have.  He went toward Azshara early this morning, and warned me you would be coming this way.  He said to tell you... 'The wooden prize lies beyond the darkened edge', whatever that means."

	Lyrah nodded and repeated the phrase to herself before bowing to the furbolg.  "Thank you so much, Gorn!  I'll see you around!"  As quick as she could, Lyrah went headed toward the aforementioned tunnel, chuckling to herself.  "Is that the best you could come up with, Dad?" she mumbled with a smile.  "It's almost like you forgot I know Azshara like the back of my hand."

	Indeed, the second she set hoof in the familiar zone, Lyrah took a sharp turn to the Northeast and broke into a fast-pace, curve-wobbling jog across the amber-colored terrain.  The wooden prize seemed like nonsense to her, but the darkened edge clearly had to be Sable Ridge.  The ridge had been home to the Black Dragonflight for a while, but the ambitious goblins had chased them off years prior.  The ground was still rather barren, but many of the remaining goblins didn't seem to care as they milled about in their own couples.  At the top of the ridge, a particular female goblin looked strikingly familiar to Lyrah, but upon seeing that a male goblin had his face fully buried beneath her dress, the shaman dared not approach to be certain.

	The strangest view along the ridge, however, was a singular blood elf who apparently was trying to hide behind one of the charred and lifeless tree trunks that dotted the landscape.  Instinct leading the way, Lyrah approached the poorly-hidden elf and gave a brief tap on the tree.  "Uh, excuse me?"

	The elf sheepishly gave her a half-glance from his hiding spot.  "Y-yes?"

	"Are you... okay?"

	The elf inhaled deeply and stepped out from behind the tree to face her appropriately... revealing that he was completely devoid of clothing.  "Well, aside from losing my robes to one of my mentor's challengers, yes, I'm peachy."

	Lyrah's flushed cheeks were tempered by her look of sympathy.  Without hesitation, Lyrah reached down her loaned robes and gently tore a two foot-long strip of leafy fabric from around her ankles, leaving the robes hanging halfway down her thighs instead.  "Here," she offered the fabric to him.

	"Oh, thank you," the elf sighed appreciatively as he took the fabric and wrapped it as best as he could around his waist.  "The last tauren up here went by too quickly for me to flag down."

	"Oh?  You've seen my dad?"

	"I would assume so, but he had a bunch of stuff in his arms.  Planning a surprise for your mother?"

	Lyrah had to turn away at that.  "S-sorta.  Did you see where he went?"

	"There's a path just down to the South toward the beach.  Try looking there,"

	The shaman opened her mouth to thank him, but the elf was already bolting off to the west in naught but that shabby loincloth-skirt.  "Kind of a weak clue, but okay," she mumbled and went skipping off toward the descending path anyway.  It was a bit of a steep drop, but Lyrah handled it well, and soon enough she was striding across the beach.  "Wooden prize..." she murmured, and stopped as she caught sight of something at the furthest end of the beach.  "No way...!" she cried, suddenly breaking into an excited sprint.

	As she drew closer, the sight of a small boat became much more apparent.  Its sides had paper hearts strung up around the boat's perimeter, and a pair of matching oars with hearts at their ends.  Inside the boat, struggling with a set of ropes keeping the oars in place, was none other than a shirtless Drenan.  His azure eyes shot up at the approaching hoofsteps, bringing a smile to his face.  "You found me faster than I had expected!" he rumbled and set aside the ropes to lean back in his seat.  "Care for a little ride this morning?" he added and reached out one hand toward his daughter.

	Lyrah let out a squee of delight and daintily took his hand as she stepped into the other end of the boat to sit across from him.  "So cool!  Where did you get this!?"

	Drenan chuckled as he took up the oars and began to paddle them away from shore.  "This is my old fishing boat.  It was still tied to the dock where I had left it years ago.  So I... decided to spruce it up a bit and take you out on it again."

	"Whoa..." she murmured and traced her fingers over the edge of the rough wood of the boat.  "I [i]remember[/i] that!  Holy crap, I was little."

	"You were better at fishing than I was," he remarked as the boat passed beyond an overhanging cliff, sending them out into the waters North of Azshara.  "I swear you just reached into the water and grabbed fish more than once."

	Lyrah giggled and blushed.  "I can't believe you did this, Dad.  What's the occasion?"

	"Is it not the season?" Drenan returned with a smile.  "And even if it was not, what occasion must I have to treat my daughter?"

	Despite the beautiful cliffs and water around them, Lyrah found herself unable to take her eyes off her father.  "Daddy...."

	Further and further the boat went, following the cliffside Westward as a small, secluded island came into view.  Drenan was all smiles as he hummed a happy tune, eyeing his daughter happily until his gaze drifted a bit too low.  "Did you tear your robes?"

	"Oh, yeah.  An elf needed some cover," she remarked casually.

	"Well... perhaps it would be improper of me to suggest that my own present might be the view, then."

	Lyrah tilted her head in confusion, then glanced down to realize that the robes had ridden up a fair bit, flashing her father with an unhindered view of her bare nethers.  Her eyes met his as she shrugged.  "Pfft, improper?  You [i]still[/i] worry about being improper?"

	The small boat ground against the sand of the small island as it beached.  "I would not say that," he admitted with a slight chuckle.  "Otherwise, I would not have made your... third gift."

	The shaman carefully stood and stepped out of the boat, shooting her father an intrigued look.  "Third?  I've only seen one..." she added, feeling a bit flustered.

	Drenan stood and followed suit as he gestured toward the grassy portion of the island.  "Number two."

	Lyrah followed his gesture to find a large, plush blanket spread out atop a patch of grass with an impressive picnic spread already laid out.  "Oh my...!"  The female tauren happily jumped onto the blanket and threw open the basket to ogle the cute picnic her father had arranged for her.  She was clearly struggling to process her multitude of emotions and thoughts, but after a few moments she was finally able to eke out, "Um... and the third...?"

	The paladin chuckled again as he took a seat on the blanket herself.  "Well... it was meant to be saved for after the picnic, but...."  A bit of shuffling ensued as he reached for his ankle-length shorts, and after a brief struggle the buttons flipped open, and out popped his semi-erect tool, covered with a pink paper tube that was riddled with poorly-drawn hearts.  A pair of springs stuck out from either side of the tube with hearts at their ends, and a combination of hearts formed a ridiculous-looking face at the tube's top.  A sheepish look crossed Drenan's face, followed by an embarrassed flush as he awaited his daughter's response.

	Lyrah's eyes went wide, then both her hands clamped tight over her muzzle.  Muffled snorts and gasps caused her chest to heave for several moments, then finally she released her snout as a series of belly-laughs leapt from her lips.  Her arms crossed over her belly as she fell back laughing on the picnic blanket, tears trickling down her cheeks as she struggled to breathe for nearly a half a minute.  When she finally regained her bearings, she sat up and shoved her fists into her eyes to dry them.  "By, the, Earthmother... Dad, where the fuck did you get that!?"

	Drenan chuckled softly as he carefully removed the tube.  "I just... know you, and thought you might find it amusing is all."  Indeed, as rare as it was, Drenan had been known to go to great lengths for Lyrah's sake, even if it meant a bit of silliness from the generally-serious bull.  It was a side of him that he only ever showed Lyrah, though it was something he often had done in her youth to cheer her up when she was sad... well, not [i]that[/i] specific thing, rather he'd stick something funny on his horn or jump into water with his clothes on to humble himself a bit.  "But I do not wish for you to think that all of our intimacy revolves solely around sex, either," he added a bit more seriously as he rebuttoned his shorts.

	The shaman's giggles waned, but her smile remained all the same as she reached out to touch her father's hand delicately.  "You dumb bull," she remarked with a teasing giggle.  "I know you still love me like you always did, and I still love you as my dad.  I always will, and... I guess I hope you don't think that it's only sex with me nowadays."

	Drenan's smile gained a slight sadness to it as he released his shorts to tenderly grasp his daughter's hand.  "Goodness, no," he returned without hesitation.  "We have been through so much together over the past four years, and as much as I have grown so incredibly fond of our intimacy, I have never once felt it overtook my genuine love for you.  I could live happily without sharing a bed with you again... not that I would [i]want[/i] that, I suppose, but, you know-"

	The paladin's rambling was silenced by a tender kiss from Lyrah that lingered for several long, tender moments.  Her hand squeezed her father's tighter and carefully placed it back on his tented, half-buttoned shorts.  As their lips parted, her voice dropped down to a near whisper.  "Shh.  I love you more than all of Azeroth, Daddy.  And I love being able to be so close to you, too.  It's a feeling that I never wanna not have, and let's be honest... I jump your bones a lot more than you jump mine."

	"Oh?  Should I jump yours more?" he prodded with an innocent laugh.

	Lyrah giggled again.  "I know why you don't, but honestly, you're welcome to more if you want.  Seeing [i]this[/i] though," she paused as she slipped her hand beneath his shorts with a grin.  "Assures me that you want me as much as I want you."

	Drenan gasped softly as he felt his daughter wrap her fingers around his tool, and in return one of his weathered hands tenderly reached up to cup her cheek.  "I love you more than I can say," he added and pressed his forehead to hers.  "You give me reason to get out of bed in the mornings, and just as much reason to stay in it, sometimes.  I would do anything for you, anything to make you happy."

	The shaman's grin turned into a playful smirk.  "[i]Anything?[/i]"

	The voice in the back of Drenan's mind that sensed fear called to him just a tad too late.  "Anything."

	"Mmmh... lie down, Daddy."

	Drenan swallowed softly as he put his trust in his daughter and did as she asked.  The sun was nearly at high noon by this point, but on that secluded little island there was no chance of them being discovered, just the way the both of them tended to like it.  As his head hit the blanket, Lyrah stood tall above him with the sun looking like a brilliant halo behind her horned head.  Both of her hands reached down to curl her torn, leafy robes upward until her entire lower half was exposed, and a few careful steps brought her straddling high above her father's head.  Before Drenan could respond, Lyrah's plump backside lowered itself squarely down over his face to seat its soft, pillowy cheeks squarely over his face.

	Lyrah had no need to instruct her father as she felt his thick tongue slide upward and over her naked nether lips as she bore down upon him, prompting a soft gasp from her own lips.  A few shifts allowed her to rest her knees to the ground on either side of his neck, and her cheeks found a comfortable home atop her father's forehead and single horn.  "I love you, Daddy..." she breathed quietly as she rocked her hips tenderly down upon his face, her gasps steadily melting into soft moans of pleasure.

	The pinned paladin let out a rumbling, happy groan in response as he plunged his muzzle into his daughter's waiting nethers, almost lazily licking and kissing her soft nether lips in tender, rhythmic fashion.  Both of his muscular arms reached up to wrap over her thighs and drop his hands down to her rump, squeezing both of her voluminous cheeks as he savored her delicious taste.  Only her soft, chocolate brown fur was all he could see beneath her, but his senses of taste and smell were wonderfully overwhelmed by his ever-desirable daughter's natural love.

	Lyrah's chest rose and fell as she savored the tender pleasure of her father's lips and tongue, and in that moment she let herself relax a bit more.  Her gaze flitted across the horizon out to sea, then down to eye her father's bulging shorts with a slight grin.  A flick of her wrist and his shorts were open once more, and one of her soft hands gingerly reached out to wrap her fingers around his shaft, squeezing and beginning to stroke him as nonchalantly as he feasted upon her.

	Intertwined, father and daughter remained coupled together for hours upon that little stretch of beach, their picnic forgotten as they simply reveled in the love they shared for each other.  Lyrah casually alternated between swallowing her father's tool and simply stroking his slicked shaft, while Drenan would shift between plunging his tongue into her depths and running slowly back and forth over her clit, while his muzzle playfully pushed up against her soft pucker.  His fingers would squeeze down tight on her rump whenever he needed a breather, but he was always quick to pull her back down and continue his tender ravishing.

	The bright orange sun neared the horizon as Lyrah's head bobbed rapidly up and down her father's tool, though it was her curvaceous body that shuddered as she moaned around his thick length.  Another burst of her nectar filled her father's mouth as she climaxed for about the seventh time that day, and in response the bull's tool twitched to flood her own mouth with thick, sticky cum for the third time in the span of six hours.  With the very last burst, a breathless Drenan squeezed his daughter's rump once more, his head collapsing back on the blanket in a struggle to catch his breathing, utterly spent.

	Lyrah, too, found it difficult to breathe as she pried herself shakily off of her father's face.  The fur the entire length down her inner thighs was matted with a mixture of her own nectar and her father's saliva, and a little pull allowed her too-small robes to finally hit the ground.  The boldly naked shaman turned to collapse next to her father, her arms running behind his neck and over his muscular chest to curl up into his side, punctuating her final move with a happy sigh as she collapsed in his grasp.

	Drenan found just enough energy to close both of his arms around his daughter, pulling their naked bodies together in a tender, loving embrace.  Neither one of them had to say a word to show how much they loved each other.  The love was simply in the air.