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It is a beautiful day in Garreg Mach, and you are a benevolent dragon archbishop in your mysterious fuck cave. Traditionally, you skulk off to your fuck cave, screw some eager Knights of Seiros, and are done with it, but this time you seem to have accidentally captured someone from the military academy and brought them with you.

The person you captured is presently unconscious. They are

A. your mom. The person who will be your mom. Sitri's baby. What's her name again?
B. a young prince. He bruised your snout before you rendered him unconscious. Not that you remember that part very well.
C. a young princess. She has your Crest! A feisty one. Perfect for breaking in.

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So you have kidnapped the Adrestian princess. As it so happens, you've "kidnapped" your fair share of Adrestian royals back in the day, although they were much more appreciative than the princess is liable to be when she wakes.

It's too late to return her to the academy now that you're stuck in your dragon form, but you might as well find a way to make her more comfortable before you debauch her. You decide to

A. make a nest.
B. carefully disrobe her.
C. start licking.

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No point in ruining her perfectly good school uniform. Black wool of that quality is expensive. So are fine silk capes and her wool hose.

You're very adept at getting people naked, even in dragon form. You don't rip her leggings or pop a button. You're even a master at popping a bra clasp with a single claw, though you're not so skilled that you can fold her clothes. You toss them aside.

She's a fine offering by your standards; beautiful, if scarred from some strange operation. What awful things humans do to each other for power or to escape their mortality. You will be sure to bless her later.

The princess groans. She's coming to.

A. Knock her out.
B. Invent an excuse that will appeal to her religious sensibilities.
C. Prepare to dragonly seduce her.

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It has been some time since you've performed a seduction, but that doesn't mean you're totally without your wiles.

You curl your lips over your teeth and flick your tongue out at her. You inflate your neck sacs rhythmically, then display the claws on your left front and hind legs, then on your right side. You inflate your neck sacs again, then announce, "Human! Do not fear. I have chosen you, one among many, to mate with me."

Your voice booms and echoes impressively against the cave walls. You flick your tongue out sexily.

Her response is not one of fear. She's not even impressed. She glares at you and covers her small breasts with one arm. "Is this a joke," she says. "Is this how you're going to announce my assassination to my father? Mated to death by the Immaculate One?"

"I am not the Immaculate One. I am a minor saint from a bygone era, and I need to mate."

She squints against the darkness and says, "Then--Cethleann?"

Her knowledge of saints is surprisingly deep. You didn't realize she was observant, with how her father has allowed the Southern Church to collapse.

A. Say you're Cethleann.
B. Say you're some different, other saint. Macuil won't mind.
C. Okay, fine. You're the Immaculate One. Let's fuck.

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"No," you say. "Not Cethleann."

"Cichol? Macuil? Indech? Which one of the beasts are you?"

You're troubled by her hostility and her knowledge. The little princess shouldn't know about the link between the dragon forms and the saints. If she knows that, then she must have some idea of your true name.

"What do you think my name is, small one?" you say.

"Seiros," she says immediately, sounding triumphant. She thinks she's clever.

"Hmm. Fine. Yes. You've found me out."

"This really isn't an assassination?" she says. "The brave Saint Seiros really barbarically drags people down to her cave and fucks them once every fifty years, or however long the interval, and go back to--" A pause as she swallows her words. "--answering prayers, like a good little saint?"

She's fearless. You admire that, even as you sense she's seeking to gain some advantage. You'll see if she'll keep that smug face when you spear her on your tongue.

"So you'll mate."

"I'm naked and trapped in a cave with Saint Seiros, so yes." She looks coldly at you, like she's challenging you to do your worst.

A. Pin her to the ground with your claws. Show her who's in charge.
B. Offer her a drink. A sexy drink.
C. Tickle her with your tongue.

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If she'll treat you like a monster, then you will show her the mercy that a monster knows.

"Then weep for your fate," you snarl. You lift your front leg up, and bring it down on her. She doesn't panic or try to run, though her expression shifts to one of fury when you hold her down, pinning her body with the pad of your hand and making sure to place one white claw right by her head. She's puny like this, an angry, sullen flame of a girl. She's struggling, trying to shift her arms. You give her some room to move, then, once she's freed her arms and adjusted her legs, pin her again. Puny! Your neck sacs inflate to drive the point further home.

It's been a long time since you've had anyone so helpless under you and so angry about it. You could soothe her, if you were so inclined.

A. You are not inclined. Toss her around some more.
B. Soothe her? Please! Time to inspect the goods.
C. Fine. You are a little inclined. You'll uhhhhh explain your intentions (fucking).
D. You are somewhat inclined. Explain to her that good girls will be granted favor from the Church.

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You bring your face closer to get a better look. You disrobed her, but relied mostly on your claws and gravity to free her from her clothes. This time, you will look and smell. You see the calculation she makes when you bring your eyes over her head, whether she could strike or injure you somehow. You're not keen on this urge being directed at you; humans can be made docile, but there's uncontrolled violence inside each of them, especially those who are allowed some grasp of power. You make note to assign her to Catherine for training later.

She has none of your favorite human facial features, but you recognize her appeal. Her body smells healthy; visually, she's well-made and sturdy. You roll her between your toes and shuffle her onto her side, then onto her other side. You slide your claws higher up to get better visibility of her legs and her cunt. Is turning pubic hair white a new fashion among the youth? You don't understand it. Aside from the fine white hairs, it appears normal. Tense. You see the outer lips shifting as she clenches her holes tighter, as though that can stop you from looking. You lick your lips.

"Get on with it," she says.

A. Tongue. Tongue right to the pussy.
B. Claw! You will make her rub one off on your claw.
C. Your inspection will continue. Turn her over.

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She's practically pushing her hips up, challenging you to make good on your intention to mate her. Very well. If she thinks she can take it, you will make her take it. You thrust your tongue forward, laying the flat of your tongue against her pussy and inner thighs. Your tongue spills and fits into the crease of her hips, against her damp slit, against the small nub that is her clit. Her reaction is instant: hips pushing higher, hand gripping your claw. You bury your tongue against her harder.

It only takes a few broad strokes of your tongue for her to start tasting sweet. You narrow your tongue to focus just on her pussy as it grows plumper and wetter. She writhes against your tongue and gasps. Yes, she's enjoying herself. You curl your claws inward, keeping her shoulders in place.

A. Let her come now. How merciful of you!
B. Work that tongue inside her. Prepare her for what will come.
C. What are asses for? Tongues.

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You wrap your tongue back into your mouth, and she relaxes, legs falling loose onto the ground and her chest heaving. She's holding onto your claws, acting like she isn't getting what she deserves.

You reach with your tongue again, this time just with the tip, flicking over her cunt and parting the lips. You keep your tongue on her hole until her thighs clench around your tongue. Then you slide your tongue further down. It's not just your spit making her pussy wet. You're willing to bet she hates that. You can think of something else she'll hate.

You flick your tongue lower, then lower again, until you're touching her other hole. She has such a stick up her ass; it's only fair that she amuse you with it. The back of her head hits the ground; she makes a loud noise in her throat, and her hole goes wild on your tongue, fluttering as you draw tight circles towards the center. You make her grind her asshole against the flat of your tongue, making sure to bend your tongue to catch her pussy. She's making wonderful, loud noises as you play with her, switching between licking her hole all over and making circles on and around it. The tip of your tongue manages to spear inside her.

"Ohh," she moans, then tries to cover her face. Your claws block her from reaching all the way, so only her fingers rest on her cheek. She looks delectable. You should mate her.

A. Give her what she wants! Fuck her ass with your tongue.
B. Ass this, ass that. Time to fuck her pussy with your nice ovipositor and put an egg in her.
C. Your enormous dragon dong awaits its chariot (pussy boning, no eggs edition).

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Your ovipositor's throbbing. You work your tongue in deeper, forcing her rim to open around it. Her legs pull up to grant you more access, and while your ovipositor is getting ready, you see no reason to not give her what she so clearly wants. You watch her turn bright red as you fuck her on your tongue. They're easy thrusts, with pitiful resistance. You watch her stare at you through the gaps in her claws, then shut her eyes and turn her face to her hand and pant, open-mouthed. You imagine, after this, she'll have a hard time fucking anyone without imagining your tongue in her ass.

It's almost a pity to stop her before she comes, but you can't think any longer. You need to plant your eggs inside her, to pump her full for hours. Her pussy should be loose enough by now. You'll enjoy breaking it in.

"What are you doing?" she demands when you withdraw your tongue. "You're surely not so self-centered as to deny my completion."

"I'm breeding you," you say, releasing her from your claws. "Be honored." The very slightest awareness of freedom enters her consciousness. You heave your body forward, your belly pressing down on her legs. You take a long step forward and lower your belly over her. She puts her hands against your stomach, as though she's afraid your bulk will crush her. The girth of your ovipositor parts her legs. You rub the tip against her pussy. Still wet, still open. Good. Spit drops from your teeth.

"You can't possibly--"

'Think the whole thing will fit' is how people normally finish the sentence. You slide in. She yelps as your ovipositor widens, and you growl to keep her in place. This is what you've needed since you brought her to the cave: something tight and wet around your ovipositor, thrusting your hips into a willing hole, and hearing the hole--the princess, you allow--moan and gush around you. You keep your thrusts shallow to keep her on edge and to buy the time you need to let the fluid in your ovipositor have its effect. It'll enhance her pleasure--and open her cervix.

"It's huge--it's huge," she gasps, and you wish you could see her face as she comes. "It feels--it feels good, ugh--Seiros!"

The tip works its way past her cervix. You adjust your legs, rocking her side-to-side as you do so, and dig your claws into the cave floor. There's no time to explain to her what's about to happen next: the first egg slides right into her waiting pussy, expanding your ovipositor as it passes. It never comes out that fast ordinarily; you shift your hips back and slam forward again to encourage another egg to drop, and another one shoots out, even faster than the one before it. She lets out a surprised grunt when it settles inside her. You give her another few thrusts to keep her happy and in the grip of another orgasm.

You lose count around ten, but you fill her, stuff her womb until you're resorting to squeezing eggs into her pussy. A less hospitable home for them, you think, snapping your teeth in annoyance. Not that the eggs were viable to begin with. She's sobbing with pleasure underneath you, rubbing herself against your ovipositor even after you pull out.

A. Pass out. You deserve it.
B. Pump and dump. She's full of eggs. Time for her to get out of your fuck cave.
C. The eggs aren't going to be viable no matter where you put them. Ass eggs.
D. Lick her pussy and eat the eggs. No sense in wasting protein.

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The princess is groaning under you. The fluids from your ovipositor must still be affecting her. She's grinding against your ovipositor, the egg threatening to drop out of her cunt. You use your ovipositor to nudge it back inside. She slaps her palms against your scales.

"I can't believe you've--you've done this to me," she says between gasps. "I need to be finished off, I need to be finished, finish me--"

You know you should be the reasonable one. You know you should tell her she's had enough and that the discomfort in her stomach will set in soon. Instead, you push your ovipositor against her asshole, and she lifts her hips.

"Keep them inside," you say, and she practically spears herself on your ovipositor in her eagerness. Her hands work between her legs, holding the eggs in and rubbing against her small nub. She comes before you even get the first knob past her rim; she's still touching herself as you push your ovipositor into her. You can feel your eggs, the large, round bumps lodged in her cunt, through her walls, and remember how good and tight she felt around your tongue. It's even tighter with your eggs pushing down.

You could slow down, keep the sensation right along her hole, since she likes that, but you have more eggs left inside you than you thought. The urge to shove yourself as deep as possible and unload until she can't do anything but stay in your cave.

"You'd be perfect with a brood inside you," you say, thrusting deep. Her legs scrape against your scales and she groans as your ovipositor settles deeper inside her. "You'd be perfect... heavy, swollen, safe inside my cave. I'd feed them bandit blood, and I'd breed you every night--"

"This is what the mighty Seiros thinks about all day? Breeding? Not prayers--ahh!"

You thrust in again. "Shut up," you snarl. You'll leave your eggs in deep enough that she won't be able to make it back to the village. She'll be too big and off-balance to even walk.

It doesn't take long for the next batch of eggs to enter her. She takes the first few with ease, even joy, her hole gripping your ovipositor as the eggs enter her, and she scratches your scales. Then the alarm sets in: "It's too many, it's too many, I can't--" between orgasms. That's the state you like her best: stretched to her limits and coming for it, anyway. There are fewer eggs than the first time, but still plenty, and more than enough to leave her overfull when you withdraw.

Since you know how humans work, you use your claws to turn her over to her side and lick her clean. She groans, her legs stretching and squeezing around your tongue. Although she keeps moaning about how she can't possibly hold everything inside, nothing seems in danger of escaping just yet.

A. Go to the edge of your cave and bellow: You are fertile! You are virile! You got laid!
B. Kick her out. She might try to kill you once the fluids wear off. You know how this works.
C. Find some water for your captive to drink. Let her rest.

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You're out of eggs. It'll take months, if not years, to build up that many eggs again. Would fucking her make the eggs come back faster? You sniff at her to test how receptive she might be to more. She groans, covers her cunt with her hand. Her asshole spasms. You flick your tongue over the hand covering her cunt, bring it up over her stomach, until you reach her neck.

"No," she says.

You're a little annoyed at being told what to do, but put your tongue back into your mouth. You've taken enough for the time being.

In the early days, you would drop the sacrifice back off at the cave's entrance and they'd be escorted back to the village by the priests, then priest; then the humans demanded war and you made the sacrifice wobble back to the village by themselves. In the last centuries, you've simply taken from the knights you already trusted. It's been a long time since you've been tempted by an outsider.

She was a good set of holes for you once she stopped being mouthy, and you gave her more than the usual share of eggs. (A pity Seteth has an aversion to the old ways of breeding; you could get him to fertilize the eggs, otherwise, and keep the princess in your cave with a brood as you promised. Seteth is a prude.) Usually, a knight captain would take the chosen back to Garreg Mach and tend to them there, but it seems you'll have to do that work yourself.

You start a magical fire to keep her warm. There are some old blankets in a corner, though, you're sad to say, they smell of a previous year's breeding. You tactfully leave it by her side in case it offends her delicate sensibilities.

You chose this cave for its secret entrances and exits, but also for its supply of water down at the bottom. The buckets you kept have mold in them, so you take a mouthful of water and hold it.

When you return to the cave, the princess is resting on the soiled blankets and has covered herself with her red cape. You lower your head, open your mouth, and lift your tongue up, revealing the water. She gives the water a look, then, reluctantly, scoops water from your mouth with one hand and drink.

"I appreciate this," she says, looking dreadfully vexed. "Thank you."

She drinks an awful lot of water. You wait patiently. It'd go faster if she used both hands instead of just one. As she drinks more, you notice something. A flash of metal.

The damn girl has a dagger in her hand.

A. You still have the advantage. You can take a dagger. Stay quiet, let her drink, and usher her out without kicking up a fuss.
B. EXTREMELY UNCOOL OF YOUR CAPTIVE. Off with her hand! Or fire. Set her on fire.
C. Enough water for her! You will make her tell you what the fuck she's doing right now.

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The water splashes out of your mouth and onto the cave floor and all over the princess. You jerk your head up and loom over her. Her hand curls around her dagger.

"What is that?" you snarl.

"A toy. But a precious toy, nonetheless," she says. She flips her soaked cape over her shoulder, unveiling her blade. It's sheathed, and she's not lunging after you, swinging for your soft spots. Not that you have many in this form; they're all out of reach. "I won't apologize for trying to secure my future, even if it seems futile. I hoped it'd be of some use, if you wouldn't release me."

You flare your nostrils. "I took you out of necessity. Now that the need has passed, you're free to go. Now, if you wish."

"I do wish," she says sharply.

The urge to tell her no and keep her for another round or two burns hot, but you swore to release her if she wanted to. You nod your head.

It takes her a while, with her legs so shaky and the eggs pressing against her entrances, but she manages it, one hand shut over her cunt and her posture rigid as she fights against them. She manages to get the cape over her shoulders, though she can't quite get it to shut before an egg slides out of her cunt, down her leg, and lands wetly on the floor. She groans, loudly, as it's displaced. You lunge for it before remembering that it's all waste.

"Are any of them--" She sounds more sympathetic than you thought. "Will any of them become..."

"No."

"That's, uh, too bad." You narrow your eyes at her; she glares back at you, offended by your skepticism. She sighs, loudly. "How long for it take for me to get rid of all of them?"

"An hour or two with human assistance. Until your next bleed for the ones in your womb. Finish dressing, and I'll return you to the monastery. There'll be an experienced healer working with the Knights of Seiros who will know what to do."

"Why can't you do it?"

"First you wish to leave, then you demand to stay! Which is it, girl?" you say, flicking your tongue at her. It's a free meal, and you do like the idea of having her on your tongue again.

"I don't like strange doctors' hands on me. If you have to keep me for another two hours, fine. Better than Hubert finding me in this state; it'll break him." She puts her dagger on the floor. "And I'd like you to do it as a human."

A. Nope! You're picking her up, dropping her off at the monastery, and flying away.
B. Hmm. Improvise some bondage and blindfolds. Time to go spelunking.
C. What if... what if... tongue

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You stare. She stares back. What are you so frightened of? You've simply been fucking the Knights of Seiros too long. Docile, worshipful servants, incapable of offering resistance. And it had been so long since you've partaken any of the pleasures of your human form. The advantage is yours.

"I'll do it. Lower your head and close your eyes," you say.

You put your forepaw on her head, pressing down carefully. Then you focus. You shrink down from your massive, secure form to your more human one. Your eyes dim; your sense of smell nearly falls away, though you appreciate the smells your human nose picks up: the damp cave, the distinct musk of Nabatean breeding.

"You have nice hands," she says unexpectedly.

"Silence," you say. You're grateful for how your voice remains rough after transforming. Plausible deniability.

You pet her hair a few times to reward her for staying in place. Your other hand goes straight between her legs to grope her ass and thighs. You press her fingers against her cunt, then her asshole, and her hips push up. Her holes are still relaxed enough for your hands. You bite her ass, and she yelps.

"Arms back," you say, and she pulls them back, reluctantly. You bind them back with her cape, then fetch her tights and use them to cover her eyes; partially to conceal your identity, but also because her face looks good with the red slashing across it. Now you're safe. You relax and spread her legs for her, then reach under to touch her bulging belly. Her breath hitches.

A. Pussy first. The eggs are already falling out. You bet you can make her cry.
B. Hmm. You have no real justifications for going for ass first. It's fun.

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You have no idea how you got so many eggs inside her cunt. Looking at it now, even with an egg pressing on the hole, it looks--well. Improbably small, though the lips surrounding it are puffy and pink, and her small clit is straining for your touch. You push the egg back inside with your finger, and she groans.

"Please," she says. "Take it out, it's too big, take it out..."

"Poor thing," you say, patting her ass. "You don't even realize how stuffed you'll have to get for me to take them out, do you?"

You run your finger inside her hole, feeling the hot, delicate tissue. You use your other hand to rub her clit until her legs tremble. You add another finger, curving around the egg's soft surface, then a third. When she comes, the egg slides out into your palm. You lay it on the floor, and reach into her pussy with four fingers. She yelps and groans and you don't stop playing with her clit, even when she tries to buck her hips away.

The first few eggs are easy enough. You use your fingers to loosen the eggs out of position, then let the contractions of her orgasms drive the eggs into your waiting hand. You do like having a good pussy to fondle: so wet and slippery, with varied texture. So many spots to press with your fingertips or rub over with the back of your knuckles. She likes rapid, hard taps hooked towards her belly button, and since it makes the eggs drop out of her cervix, you keep your fingers there for a long while, until she falls over on her face and tries to curl up into a ball.

"It's too much," she whines, rubbing her forehead against the ground. "Seiros, please, five minutes."

"Start praying," you say, grabbing her leg and hauling her back on your hand. This time you seat her in your lap, spreading her legs wide on either side of your legs while you reach into her with your entire hand. It's less painful doing it this way, before her womb cramps all of them out. She'll thank you later.

The hard part about this position is that you have to pull on her arms to keep her from flopping out of reach. There's spit on her chin and tears on her blindfold. You turn your knuckles over her sensitive spots, and coax another egg to drop out. Her pussy's like a beautiful glove wrapped around your skin.

You can feel the eggs in her ass descending as her cunt empties out, and when you press against them, tracing their shape through her pussy, she twitches limply on your hand. You rub her clit a few times to see if there's anything still in this hole; her head lolls. Her body shudders. You ease your hand out.

A. Feed her an egg.
B. The egg-traction must continue...

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"Good girl... pretty girl," you say. You hold her by the waist and scrape your teeth on her neck and jaw. You lick the sweat off her neck. Then, because she looks too fucked out to process it, you let yourself kiss her mouth. She stiffens immediately; at least until you press your fingers into her asshole. She licks your lips, opens her mouth to you. Sucks on your tongue desperately as you press down on her stomach. It's smaller than before, but still big enough to keep you from wanting to return to your dragon form and pump her full again.

You have three fingers in her asshole, and she won't stop trying to kiss you, even as she struggles to stay upright. She drifts towards your mouth, fighting the way you're trying to get her in position to extract the rest of the eggs. You curl your knuckles inside her, and she squeezes tight.

You give up on pulling her upright and let her fall on her side. You pull her legs apart and let one shoulder rest on your leg. Your pinky joins your other three fingers. She jerks into you, then bites her lips. Her hole expands, releasing your fingers and an egg.

"Ohh--I hate this, I hate it," she groans. More eggs slide out, requiring little more than you holding her hole open with your fingertips and rubbing her clit with your palm.

"You looked so good with these in you. You looked so good. And when your hole's tight around my hand, you'll see what your body was made for--"

"That's disgusting," she says.

Her hole's squeezing around your knuckles. You fold your thumb in and push in just as she tries to push you out. She pulls her lips from her teeth and screams.

"And that's my hand inside you," you purr, pulling down on her rim and pushing forward on her leg, prying her body apart. Eggs push down on your fingers. Right. That's why you're doing this.

It's getting harder telling when she's coming. She trembles and squeaks when your hand pops out of her asshole, holding an egg. She looks peaceful. That makes you proud of yourself. A saint's work.

You move to rubbing different parts of her pussy to keep her clit from getting stripped raw. The eggs have kept her nicely lubricated and open as you pull the last eggs from her.

She's barely conscious by the time you finish. You pat her ass.

A. Rub one off on her. Pass out.
B. Masturbate! A crumb of orgasm for Saint Seiros.
C. Right. You need to get her back to the monastery. Heal her. And then go to bed.

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You drag her onto some blankets. She turns in bed, protesting against your attempt to cover her with a blanket. She seems like the fussy type; probably does not approve of being tucked in while she's covered in cum. You run your hand along the inside of her wet thighs, along her wet pubic hair, up to her overused clit. Her holes are still wide and leaking from your ovipositor and hands. You settle your cunt on the inside of her thighs, where she's slick and apparently also sensitive. She stirs just enough to make a noise that sounds like, "You're joking," but doesn't buck you off or crawl away. You set your thigh against her hot pussy, then take pity when she whimpers like you've kicked her in the ribs.

"My arms--my hands are getting numb."

You press your cunt hard against her thigh and reach behind her to free her hands. You grab her ass, keeping her into place.

"Don't touch the blindfold," you mutter. She doesn't. She holds her arms close to her body. Then, because you didn't think to do this earlier, you say, "Touch your breasts. For the Goddess, child."

When she takes too long, you shove your knee into her sensitive pussy. She whines and grabs her breasts in her hands, squeezing them until her tits squish in her hand. She touches herself the way you'd tell her to touch her, rough and merciless, like some part of you is inside her, even if you've scooped the eggs out of her body. You grunt in approval.

"Dig your nails in. Closer to your nipples. Squeal like the animal you are." You bounce forward on her smooth thigh and she moans. She's moving against you, flexing her ass and bucking her hips. "Squeal!"

"Oh, oh fuck, oh fuck! Seiros, Seiros, ah--"

Your fingers push deeper into her. Your vision slips between the sticky fluid shining on both of your legs, her tits white under her fingers, the fire burning behind her, the tights slipping around her eyes. Actually--

Her eyes are open. You can see one of them, the left one. She's not even looking at you, and that's--that's your only defense right now, you think. You have to make her come again, and then she won't notice the blindfold slipping over her eyes. You put your thumb on the buried shaft of her clit, shift so you're straddling her leg further down, and stick two fingers into her ass, and she comes miserably, her legs and shoulders shaking. Her hands drop away from her breasts. You shove your hand over her eyes and ride her leg until you come.

You're exhausted. Turning into a dragon, breeding her, shifting back into a human; you've had little more than water. You should've at least chased a deer down so you could both enjoy a nice roast.

"I'll get us something to eat after this nap," you say, collapsing on top of her. She's not particularly soft, but she'll do as far as a human pillow.

You have just enough foresight to snuff the fire. She'll be too tired to do anything, you think. And then you pass out.

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When you come to, the princess is gone. Her clothes, gone. The ugly, cum-soaked blanket, also gone. She's stepped on some eggs, destroying them, but otherwise has left you unharmed.

You descend down the cave to see if she went seeking water. No. You make it aboveground, where it's night. You can smell some remnants of your eggs heading to the woods.

You're not sure how long you stay there, feeling deeply insulted that she left without sharing a meal with you. By the time you come to, Seteth's wyvern is landing before you.

"Rhea!" he says. "Are you kidnapping people from the monastery again?"

"No," you say. "Why? Who's said so?"

"Stay back," he says. "How are you still possessed by the urge to mate at your age? Can't you use those new lambskins..."

"I wasn't out here breeding anyone! Unless there are students missing."

"So you have been?!"

"I've been meditating. I've had very good dreams."

"Clean yourself," he says. "I'll fly you back. The entire monastery is in uproar over your disappearance..."

You know where the river runs and head to it. As you pass the threshold into the forest, you see something that gives you pause. She stabbed one of the trees, leaving it dripping sap. Out of thirst? No. In anger. A lashing out: this might be your domain, but see what wounds I can inflict!

You'll have to find her at the academy and explain to her that it was all a blessing. A rare, magical blessing from Saint Seiros herself. And in any case, it's just a tree. Nothing to be scared of. Not yet.