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", "count": "275", "submission_left_submission_id": "383756", "submission_left_file_name": "493701_Zsisron_wing-it_kicks_2.png", "submission_left_thumbnail_url_huge_noncustom": "https://nl1.ib.metapix.net/files/preview/493/493701_Zsisron_wing-it_kicks_2.jpg", "submission_left_thumbnail_url_large_noncustom": "https://nl1.ib.metapix.net/thumbnails/large/493/493701_Zsisron_wing-it_kicks_2_noncustom.jpg", "submission_left_thumbnail_url_medium_noncustom": "https://nl1.ib.metapix.net/thumbnails/medium/493/493701_Zsisron_wing-it_kicks_2_noncustom.jpg", "submission_left_thumb_medium_noncustom_x": "120", "submission_left_thumb_medium_noncustom_y": "101", "submission_left_thumb_large_noncustom_x": "200", "submission_left_thumb_large_noncustom_y": "168", "submission_left_thumb_huge_noncustom_x": "300", "submission_left_thumb_huge_noncustom_y": "251", "submission_right_submission_id": "386630", "submission_right_file_name": "497371_Zsisron_zsisron_08-11-12_koopa-incest_web.jpg", "submission_right_thumbnail_url_huge_noncustom": "https://nl1.ib.metapix.net/files/preview/497/497371_Zsisron_zsisron_08-11-12_koopa-incest_web.jpg", "submission_right_thumbnail_url_large_noncustom": "https://nl1.ib.metapix.net/thumbnails/large/497/497371_Zsisron_zsisron_08-11-12_koopa-incest_web_noncustom.jpg", "submission_right_thumbnail_url_medium_noncustom": "https://nl1.ib.metapix.net/thumbnails/medium/497/497371_Zsisron_zsisron_08-11-12_koopa-incest_web_noncustom.jpg", "submission_right_thumb_medium_noncustom_x": "120", "submission_right_thumb_medium_noncustom_y": "120", "submission_right_thumb_large_noncustom_x": "200", "submission_right_thumb_large_noncustom_y": "200", "submission_right_thumb_huge_noncustom_x": "300", "submission_right_thumb_huge_noncustom_y": "300" } ], "description": "[i]It was not a fit night for travel, but Carindaroth pressed on through the biting gale with the surety and drive of youth. Four days surrounded by a great blizzard had not tired him, even when shards of razor-sharp ice threatened to slice his ivory wings or biting cold would freeze the eyes of lesser beings. Day had faded into nigh and back into day as the miles melted beneath him, mountaintops and tundra plains and even ice-choked seas.\n\nHis sire would have remembered these as the lands of Salkafar, Denandra and Triand, ancient empires back in the times before the fimbulwinter crept south on the teeth of great ice sheets and storms like this one. Their ruins dotted the landscape, though little of this interested Carindaroth. He had a goal in mind, that involved history much more ancient than fields covered in a half-mile of ice. He tasted the hint of salt in the air, and knew he was getting close. Even when the lands he'd travelled over had been green and lush, this place had been at the edge of icelock.\n\nThe white drake banked against the storm, swinging down to where the half-light that could be called \"day\" showed him bumps and ridges in the landscape. He'd fought hard to find the maps of this ancient kingdom, dating to the time before the last time the ice crept down from the north, and he had committed it to memory. He recognized Pellington Bay, the mouth of the River Tantir and the small rise that would have once been the great port of Amari. He was close, he could taste it on the wind now. A beat, then another, and the storm parted for him.\n\nIt was several hours before the great spires of the Tusks of the North jutted up from the icy plain, skirted in great sheets of ice that trained south for thousands of miles. His prize lay…. there. Nestled in amongst the Tusks in the sheltered space between them. A great fortress in ruins, the seat of an ancient kingdom of magi that were old enough to be legends for even the dragons, and within it lay what he sought. It would make this trip worth his while.\n\nHe alighted upon what was once a parade ground, the barren ground only lightly dusted with snow - this far north snows fell so rarely that the wind scoured most of it away. The builders were prone to minarets, domes and other large structures, and the heart of the fortress was a great dome of stone and crystal flanked by three of its original six minarets still standing in the half-light. A path of stone that glowed very dimly even now, millennia after the architects laid it down, led through great opening, the gate that once guarded it dust before Carindaroth's sire's sire's sire had hatched. A tilt of his head, extending his sinuous neck to sniff the air, told him that what he sought still lived, and most importantly, still lived here.\n\nThe great done opened not on a courtyard, but a long, looping staircase down into the depths of the earth, and at the bottom stood a mummified tree, once great in size and now a silent sentinel in the chill half-light of the north. Behind it lay another gaping passageway into the heart of the Western Tusk, and within, the drip of… water? And a deep rumble of something else. With a slow step, Carindaroth stepped into the darkness, his eyes shifting slightly to glimmer in the dark, revealing a worn passageway that extended several hundred yards into the darkness, then turned to a large, dank chamber, worn into a shallow bowl by millennia of its current occupant coming and going and shifting in his centuries-long sleeps.\n\nOccupying most of this chamber was one of the largest dragons that had ever been. The darkness would have concealed color from mortal eyes, but this great wyrm sparkled silver to the white drake's sight, his great torso heaving slowly as he drew in great breaths, then exhaled them in a steady stream, the moisture forming a mist in the chamber, which condensed on the frigid walls and ran into small pools that ringed the room.\n\nThe silver's head lay tucked in against a folded wing, eyes still closed as Carindaroth stepped forward. The darkness was total, but he still had his eyes on his prize. \"I come for you, Shiradel,\" the white drake said quietly in the old tongue, taking a step forward onto ice-slicked stone.\n\nThe response was sure as the rising sun. Without even opening his eyes, the ancient wyrm lifted his head and yawned expansively, drawn gin a deep breath, then letting fly with a chill that would've made the lands above feel tropical. Water and other, stranger things turned to shards of ice and heavy mists that shot forward from the heart of a mad arctic storm, lashing at the walls and the floor, scouring it clean and furrowing it with the force of a frozen tempest. No mortal could have withstood such a blast, and even one who made his home in the ice as Carindaroth would have been able to escape unscathed.\n\nBut that was not a concern for the young drake, who had taken wing and shot across the great chamber to land atop a pile of ancient textiles and crumbled furnishings that had been assembled into a makeshift nest for the ancient wyrm. \"Great Shiradel, is that any way to treat one who seeks an audience with your munificence?\" His words dripped with false sincerity, but the awakened silver seemed not to mind.\n\n\"You seek an audience, but do not announce yourself at the door to my chambers? Why should I believe you?\" His voice was the slide of nicest scales on even more ancient stone, a deep thrumming that resonated the bones of the world.\n\n\"Because I could have slain you in your sleep. You did not respond until I spoke - had I wished you ill, there would have been many ways I could've dispatched you, or at least gained significant advantage, while you slept. No, I seek only an audience…\" The younger drake slowly came up to the side of the great wyrm's head, standing less than half the size of the beast so much his elder.\n\nShiradel shook his head for a moment ,as though to clear it, swinging about to look at the young drake. \"You came here for a simple audience, or to see if I still drew breath. And if not, then to claim my demesne as your own?\"\n\n\"You have stood for so long apart from your brethren, Shiradel. We are diminished as the ice has taken the world again. You are the last who remembers the time before the last Fimbulwinter, and there are things that would be lost with you should you sleep and never awake. Of course, yes, there is a motive - to be the one who brings what you know back would be great honor, but it is far better that I seek knowledge than to simply challenge and diminish us as a whole, no?\" All the while his tail swayed slowly and he pressed against the silver, their cool flesh still warmer than the air around them.\n\nShiradel found the youth's audacity unnerving, but somehow comforting. He didn't come to slay, or so he said, and that alone marked him as different from how the silver remembered relations with their lesser white cousins. But he had been here in the north for a draconic generation or two - things could have changed of necessity.\n\n\"So, you come here on a noble quest for your… \" Shiradel sniffed the air, then chuckled. \"Coming of age quest, is it? You are truly daring to seek me out, but if what I predicted when this winter began is true, this would be the time for derring-do. What is it you would know?\" He turned his head to look into the eyes of the white drake, and for a moment, frozen in time, they locked together.\n\n\"I, Carindaroth, come to find why you are unmated, and why you he retreated from draconic civilization. I am here to learn your deepest secrets and to claim a prize that none other would dare.\" He smiled then, revealing fangs and a soft, hoarfrost breath trickling out along his chin. His eyes sparkled with the darkvision, while Shiradel's were more dull, a simple soft glow.\n\n\"You seek a prize, then? There is nothing here that you could carry back with you to the south. Time has been a better thief than all the others together. There is little left here, save memories and dust. So if it is power you seek, I am afraid your journey has been for naught.\"\n\nThe white shook his head, and for a moment flicked his tongue forward, tracing it teasingly along the silver snout before him, the movement odd and startling to the great wyrm. \"Oh, it is not. You see… it is your… knowledge that I seek. And your companionship. And you will give it to me.\"\n\nShiradel started, jerking his head back finally, though he hesitated for a moment. Carindaroth was handsome and young, but that didn't excuse that they were both males, and their union could never be fertile. Of course, they were also sworn enemies, but so much could have changed in the world to the south. He shook his head, narrowing his eyes. \"You trick me,\" he snarled, drawing in another sharp breath and letting loose with a blast of deep-winter chill.\n\nCarindaroth again chose to not be in the way of Shiradel's breath, leaping past his head and barreling into his side, knocking him over and rolling him on the slick surface to his back, wings splayed out to steady him as he kicked and lashed at the air. The white leaped on the silver's belly, smirking a little as he stretched a hindpaw back, his head leaning up to stare eye to eye into the silver's.\n\n\"If you are so unwilling to give me what I seek, tell me, great wyrm of the north, why is it that your pride is so exposed? It seems your lips say one thing, but your body cries for something much, much different.\"\n\nFinely-scaled toes and surprisingly delicate talons caressed that thick silver-white erection that Shiradel hadn't even known was present until attention was called, but the feeling was electric. He hadn't been touched there in… centuries, at least, and the sensations exploded in stars behind his eyes. A low, deep moan echoed into the cavern, his snout caught open slightly, a sudden surprised glaze in his eyes as he was so deftly manipulated.\n\n\"You see, great one, you are interested in what I have to offer. You are beyond interested… And you're only just now realizing it, aren't you? I have not come all this way for nothing, and I will return with you as my mate and thrall. And your body already dances to my song.\" He grinned wickedly at that, a single long stroke with his extended hindtalon making the elder drake shudder and moan in ecstasy, frigid precut drooling form his tip already to drip down to his bellyplates below.\n\nFor a moment, Shiradel was lost. He could not remember such pleasure, could not remember such fulfillment. He wanted only to continue this forever. It had been so long without another's touch, what harm would it do? Yes, it was another male, but it was hardly unknown for his kind. In fact, it would be better, perhaps, than siring another clutch, which would be the expectation had his suitor been female. No, this was agreeable.\n\nAnd suddenly, the world went sun-bright as, sensing uncertainty, Carindaroth leaned forward and pressed his snout to Shiradel's, their muzzles pressed together, tongues twined in a passionate dance. Their eyes locked, the white's sparkling brilliance versus the dim glow of the silver, and again, it felt as though time itself froze.\n\nTaking advantage, Carindaroth slowly slid back between the haunches of his conquest, sliding slowly with his own erection and bellyplates back over that heavy arousal, until his cock slid down to bump againt the base of Shiradel's tail, coaxing the silver to follow with his long neck into the kiss, locked together in an embrace with eyes boring into each other.\n\nShiradel blinked as the kiss ended, hs neck stretched to keep himself close to his lover, as he felt the pressure under his tail against his ring. This.. this wasn't right ,was it? He was the elder, the stronger, he would not be…\n\nCarindaroth conquered surely and swiftly, a single thrust, slickened with the desire and need of youth as his ember slid home deep within Shiradel's rump, taking his mate and thrall firmly. With that single motion, any clarity in the silver's mind shattered into motes like snow, and his body came afire with the passion and the need to please his mate. He laid his head back, neck sprawled out across the smooth stone floor, grinding his hips back as he was taken, conquered, claimed.\n\n\"What… is this feeling?\" he panted breathily, the words forming into mist in the chill air above, the sensation alien to him, but stronger than anything he had previously felt in millennia of life.\n\n\"It is surrender. You are not my mate - you are not strong enough to bear my young. You are my thrall, and you will serve me so that I may give you this, again and again, until the day your bones shall make the foundation of my throne.\" He thrust in hard, growling as he hunched firmly, feeling his own need rising. it would only be a matter of time before he claimed this great wyrm as his, soul-deep and eternally, even for a dragon.\n\n\"Why.. do I want it so? What makes a.. hatchling, so potent to me?\" He panted, hunching at the air, his own arousal pulsing precum between the two drake's bellies where it was pinned, massaged b the thrusting strokes of the dominant white into him.\n\n\"Destiny,\" was all the answer Carindaroth felt worthy of giving his slave. He leaned forward, grabbing the silver throat in a mating bite, hunching in hard and fast, growling in need. His roar of triumph brought down great ice sheets outside, fangs sinking into flesh and drawing a trickle of hot crimson, quickly flash-frozen as he let loose his own potent breath to weaken his thrall further.\n\nShiradel knew something was wrong as his loins bubbled up in flame, then suddenly felt his body spasm and thrash, the most intense climax he'd ever experienced washing over him, splattering the space between the two males as he felt something inside him snap. His mind shifted, adjusting to directives it didn't know existed, as he became prepared for his role. He felt his Master atop him, and the satisfaction radiating from the mating bite. it was done, and he knew, finally, why he had been waiting here asleep in the ice-locked north.[/i]\n\nIn truth the dragon up there is a female... but this story was what inspired the piece to be after me and a friend had discussed ideas about feral dragons dominating other feral dragons. :) I wasn't able to get the piece myself so I split it between me and another, a woman named Safyras... and thus this is how this came to be. :D \n\nArtwork was by Twinkle-sez. :) ", "description_bbcode_parsed": "It was not a fit night for travel, but Carindaroth pressed on through the biting gale with the surety and drive of youth. Four days surrounded by a great blizzard had not tired him, even when shards of razor-sharp ice threatened to slice his ivory wings or biting cold would freeze the eyes of lesser beings. Day had faded into nigh and back into day as the miles melted beneath him, mountaintops and tundra plains and even ice-choked seas.

His sire would have remembered these as the lands of Salkafar, Denandra and Triand, ancient empires back in the times before the fimbulwinter crept south on the teeth of great ice sheets and storms like this one. Their ruins dotted the landscape, though little of this interested Carindaroth. He had a goal in mind, that involved history much more ancient than fields covered in a half-mile of ice. He tasted the hint of salt in the air, and knew he was getting close. Even when the lands he'd travelled over had been green and lush, this place had been at the edge of icelock.

The white drake banked against the storm, swinging down to where the half-light that could be called "day" showed him bumps and ridges in the landscape. He'd fought hard to find the maps of this ancient kingdom, dating to the time before the last time the ice crept down from the north, and he had committed it to memory. He recognized Pellington Bay, the mouth of the River Tantir and the small rise that would have once been the great port of Amari. He was close, he could taste it on the wind now. A beat, then another, and the storm parted for him.

It was several hours before the great spires of the Tusks of the North jutted up from the icy plain, skirted in great sheets of ice that trained south for thousands of miles. His prize lay…. there. Nestled in amongst the Tusks in the sheltered space between them. A great fortress in ruins, the seat of an ancient kingdom of magi that were old enough to be legends for even the dragons, and within it lay what he sought. It would make this trip worth his while.

He alighted upon what was once a parade ground, the barren ground only lightly dusted with snow - this far north snows fell so rarely that the wind scoured most of it away. The builders were prone to minarets, domes and other large structures, and the heart of the fortress was a great dome of stone and crystal flanked by three of its original six minarets still standing in the half-light. A path of stone that glowed very dimly even now, millennia after the architects laid it down, led through great opening, the gate that once guarded it dust before Carindaroth's sire's sire's sire had hatched. A tilt of his head, extending his sinuous neck to sniff the air, told him that what he sought still lived, and most importantly, still lived here.

The great done opened not on a courtyard, but a long, looping staircase down into the depths of the earth, and at the bottom stood a mummified tree, once great in size and now a silent sentinel in the chill half-light of the north. Behind it lay another gaping passageway into the heart of the Western Tusk, and within, the drip of… water? And a deep rumble of something else. With a slow step, Carindaroth stepped into the darkness, his eyes shifting slightly to glimmer in the dark, revealing a worn passageway that extended several hundred yards into the darkness, then turned to a large, dank chamber, worn into a shallow bowl by millennia of its current occupant coming and going and shifting in his centuries-long sleeps.

Occupying most of this chamber was one of the largest dragons that had ever been. The darkness would have concealed color from mortal eyes, but this great wyrm sparkled silver to the white drake's sight, his great torso heaving slowly as he drew in great breaths, then exhaled them in a steady stream, the moisture forming a mist in the chamber, which condensed on the frigid walls and ran into small pools that ringed the room.

The silver's head lay tucked in against a folded wing, eyes still closed as Carindaroth stepped forward. The darkness was total, but he still had his eyes on his prize. "I come for you, Shiradel," the white drake said quietly in the old tongue, taking a step forward onto ice-slicked stone.

The response was sure as the rising sun. Without even opening his eyes, the ancient wyrm lifted his head and yawned expansively, drawn gin a deep breath, then letting fly with a chill that would've made the lands above feel tropical. Water and other, stranger things turned to shards of ice and heavy mists that shot forward from the heart of a mad arctic storm, lashing at the walls and the floor, scouring it clean and furrowing it with the force of a frozen tempest. No mortal could have withstood such a blast, and even one who made his home in the ice as Carindaroth would have been able to escape unscathed.

But that was not a concern for the young drake, who had taken wing and shot across the great chamber to land atop a pile of ancient textiles and crumbled furnishings that had been assembled into a makeshift nest for the ancient wyrm. "Great Shiradel, is that any way to treat one who seeks an audience with your munificence?" His words dripped with false sincerity, but the awakened silver seemed not to mind.

"You seek an audience, but do not announce yourself at the door to my chambers? Why should I believe you?" His voice was the slide of nicest scales on even more ancient stone, a deep thrumming that resonated the bones of the world.

"Because I could have slain you in your sleep. You did not respond until I spoke - had I wished you ill, there would have been many ways I could've dispatched you, or at least gained significant advantage, while you slept. No, I seek only an audience…" The younger drake slowly came up to the side of the great wyrm's head, standing less than half the size of the beast so much his elder.

Shiradel shook his head for a moment ,as though to clear it, swinging about to look at the young drake. "You came here for a simple audience, or to see if I still drew breath. And if not, then to claim my demesne as your own?"

"You have stood for so long apart from your brethren, Shiradel. We are diminished as the ice has taken the world again. You are the last who remembers the time before the last Fimbulwinter, and there are things that would be lost with you should you sleep and never awake. Of course, yes, there is a motive - to be the one who brings what you know back would be great honor, but it is far better that I seek knowledge than to simply challenge and diminish us as a whole, no?" All the while his tail swayed slowly and he pressed against the silver, their cool flesh still warmer than the air around them.

Shiradel found the youth's audacity unnerving, but somehow comforting. He didn't come to slay, or so he said, and that alone marked him as different from how the silver remembered relations with their lesser white cousins. But he had been here in the north for a draconic generation or two - things could have changed of necessity.

"So, you come here on a noble quest for your… " Shiradel sniffed the air, then chuckled. "Coming of age quest, is it? You are truly daring to seek me out, but if what I predicted when this winter began is true, this would be the time for derring-do. What is it you would know?" He turned his head to look into the eyes of the white drake, and for a moment, frozen in time, they locked together.

"I, Carindaroth, come to find why you are unmated, and why you he retreated from draconic civilization. I am here to learn your deepest secrets and to claim a prize that none other would dare." He smiled then, revealing fangs and a soft, hoarfrost breath trickling out along his chin. His eyes sparkled with the darkvision, while Shiradel's were more dull, a simple soft glow.

"You seek a prize, then? There is nothing here that you could carry back with you to the south. Time has been a better thief than all the others together. There is little left here, save memories and dust. So if it is power you seek, I am afraid your journey has been for naught."

The white shook his head, and for a moment flicked his tongue forward, tracing it teasingly along the silver snout before him, the movement odd and startling to the great wyrm. "Oh, it is not. You see… it is your… knowledge that I seek. And your companionship. And you will give it to me."

Shiradel started, jerking his head back finally, though he hesitated for a moment. Carindaroth was handsome and young, but that didn't excuse that they were both males, and their union could never be fertile. Of course, they were also sworn enemies, but so much could have changed in the world to the south. He shook his head, narrowing his eyes. "You trick me," he snarled, drawing in another sharp breath and letting loose with a blast of deep-winter chill.

Carindaroth again chose to not be in the way of Shiradel's breath, leaping past his head and barreling into his side, knocking him over and rolling him on the slick surface to his back, wings splayed out to steady him as he kicked and lashed at the air. The white leaped on the silver's belly, smirking a little as he stretched a hindpaw back, his head leaning up to stare eye to eye into the silver's.

"If you are so unwilling to give me what I seek, tell me, great wyrm of the north, why is it that your pride is so exposed? It seems your lips say one thing, but your body cries for something much, much different."

Finely-scaled toes and surprisingly delicate talons caressed that thick silver-white erection that Shiradel hadn't even known was present until attention was called, but the feeling was electric. He hadn't been touched there in… centuries, at least, and the sensations exploded in stars behind his eyes. A low, deep moan echoed into the cavern, his snout caught open slightly, a sudden surprised glaze in his eyes as he was so deftly manipulated.

"You see, great one, you are interested in what I have to offer. You are beyond interested… And you're only just now realizing it, aren't you? I have not come all this way for nothing, and I will return with you as my mate and thrall. And your body already dances to my song." He grinned wickedly at that, a single long stroke with his extended hindtalon making the elder drake shudder and moan in ecstasy, frigid precut drooling form his tip already to drip down to his bellyplates below.

For a moment, Shiradel was lost. He could not remember such pleasure, could not remember such fulfillment. He wanted only to continue this forever. It had been so long without another's touch, what harm would it do? Yes, it was another male, but it was hardly unknown for his kind. In fact, it would be better, perhaps, than siring another clutch, which would be the expectation had his suitor been female. No, this was agreeable.

And suddenly, the world went sun-bright as, sensing uncertainty, Carindaroth leaned forward and pressed his snout to Shiradel's, their muzzles pressed together, tongues twined in a passionate dance. Their eyes locked, the white's sparkling brilliance versus the dim glow of the silver, and again, it felt as though time itself froze.

Taking advantage, Carindaroth slowly slid back between the haunches of his conquest, sliding slowly with his own erection and bellyplates back over that heavy arousal, until his cock slid down to bump againt the base of Shiradel's tail, coaxing the silver to follow with his long neck into the kiss, locked together in an embrace with eyes boring into each other.

Shiradel blinked as the kiss ended, hs neck stretched to keep himself close to his lover, as he felt the pressure under his tail against his ring. This.. this wasn't right ,was it? He was the elder, the stronger, he would not be…

Carindaroth conquered surely and swiftly, a single thrust, slickened with the desire and need of youth as his ember slid home deep within Shiradel's rump, taking his mate and thrall firmly. With that single motion, any clarity in the silver's mind shattered into motes like snow, and his body came afire with the passion and the need to please his mate. He laid his head back, neck sprawled out across the smooth stone floor, grinding his hips back as he was taken, conquered, claimed.

"What… is this feeling?" he panted breathily, the words forming into mist in the chill air above, the sensation alien to him, but stronger than anything he had previously felt in millennia of life.

"It is surrender. You are not my mate - you are not strong enough to bear my young. You are my thrall, and you will serve me so that I may give you this, again and again, until the day your bones shall make the foundation of my throne." He thrust in hard, growling as he hunched firmly, feeling his own need rising. it would only be a matter of time before he claimed this great wyrm as his, soul-deep and eternally, even for a dragon.

"Why.. do I want it so? What makes a.. hatchling, so potent to me?" He panted, hunching at the air, his own arousal pulsing precum between the two drake's bellies where it was pinned, massaged b the thrusting strokes of the dominant white into him.

"Destiny," was all the answer Carindaroth felt worthy of giving his slave. He leaned forward, grabbing the silver throat in a mating bite, hunching in hard and fast, growling in need. His roar of triumph brought down great ice sheets outside, fangs sinking into flesh and drawing a trickle of hot crimson, quickly flash-frozen as he let loose his own potent breath to weaken his thrall further.

Shiradel knew something was wrong as his loins bubbled up in flame, then suddenly felt his body spasm and thrash, the most intense climax he'd ever experienced washing over him, splattering the space between the two males as he felt something inside him snap. His mind shifted, adjusting to directives it didn't know existed, as he became prepared for his role. He felt his Master atop him, and the satisfaction radiating from the mating bite. it was done, and he knew, finally, why he had been waiting here asleep in the ice-locked north.

In truth the dragon up there is a female... but this story was what inspired the piece to be after me and a friend had discussed ideas about feral dragons dominating other feral dragons. :) I wasn't able to get the piece myself so I split it between me and another, a woman named Safyras... and thus this is how this came to be. :D

Artwork was by Twinkle-sez. :) ", "writing": "", "writing_bbcode_parsed": "", "pools_count": 2, "title": "Winter Comes", "deleted": "f", "public": "t", "mimetype": "image/jpeg", "pagecount": "1", "rating_id": "2", "rating_name": "Adult", "ratings": [ { "content_tag_id": "4", "name": "Sexual Themes", "description": "Erotic imagery, sexual activity or arousal", "rating_id": "2" } ], "submission_type_id": "1", "type_name": "Picture/Pinup", "guest_block": "t", "friends_only": "f", "comments_count": "2", "views": "2880" }