Prince Vayner cuddled up tight into his opulent velvet sheets, even the fireplace doing little to warm his lofty tower residence above the royal castle. A night-time blizzard raged outside and his imagination wondered. Clutched up safely in his cozy circumstances, the howling winds inspired him into fervent bouts of adventurous imagination. The tremendous whooshing noises whirling outside rose in intensity, his shuttered window violently rattling with strain. He briefly considered fleeing to lower in the castle, in case the storm somehow dislodged the turreted structure from the aged castle. But the princeling realized that he was a man now, come of age, and should act with bravery when confronted with such childish fears.
Vayner wasn't at all prepared when the shuttered window burst outwards in a spray of dusty masonry, unleashing violent gales that ripped the bedding from his trembling grasp. This loud destruction was followed by a leering draconic snout wreathed in purple scales, which pushed into the breach intently. The short royal began shrieking with startling pitch, clutching a laced pillow to his chest defensively. Cackling with a deep, hissing baritone, the intimidating dragoness heaved a scaly limb into the rent, groping for the noble within. Vayner collapsed over the side of his four-poster bed, trying to put it between him in the beast, but the violet drake heaved in suddenly and dragged him outdoors. Her prize in claw, the great reptile flapped off the castle turret, absconding into the stormy sky with the sole heir to the Walharne throne clutched to her warm, scaled breast.
***
Isolde Mon'Aguirre knelt before the Walharne king obsequiously, her lupine ears twitching about in involuntary anxiety. The Walharne's were famous persecutors of her canine-featured kin, and now they dare come to her for help?
"A tracker and fighter of your skills is necessary for this delicate mission," the king's speaker dryly intoned, as the royal lord imperiously watched from his towering throne. Continuing with rehearsed intonation, "The infamous dragoness, Zarnivexa, has threatened Prince Vayner's life if we attempt rescue, and no others have even come close to discovering her hidden lair. We have some of the prince's prized possessions, and a scale from the drake herself. Can you use these items to track the heir's location? Can you defeat Zarnivexa in single combat? We've heard tale of your...rivalry."
The great wolf knight clenched her jaws fiercely, suppressing a growl upon hearing of her ongoing foe's latest exploits. Isolde had been undoing Zarnivexa's damage and mischief for years, but this latest upset was beyond reckoning. The dangerous drake had to be brought to justice, and though she felt no loyalty to these bigoted humans, the oath-sworn knight knew it was her duty to defeat her foe. "Yes, I have no need of her gaudy scales; I know the foul, sulfurous smell of her proximity well," Isolde paused, repressing the urge to spit upon the carpeted floor before continuing, "I will bring your Vayner back to you, as unharmed as I am possibly able. Or else I shall bring back the dragon's head in retribution. This I swear, or I shall die in the attempting." With those gruff, solemn words from Isolde, the seneschal turned to his lord, who quietly nodded in affirmation, accepting. The quest was afoot.
***
Isolde had spent weeks scaling and exploring the Kalpar mountains surrounding the Walharne kingdom. The skilled tracker knew that Zarnivexa could only fly so far in a storm's buffeting headwinds, diminishing the perimeter she need explore. Eventually, the tell-tale smell of brimstone alerted the wolf's incredibly sensitive sense of smell to her quarry's abode. Knowing armor would do her no good against a fire-breathing foe, Isolde strode forth with little but a sword, shield. Draped in a knight's tabard, colored in the regalia of her esteemed order, the focused warrior bravely strode into her hated enemy's cave, hearing a commotion issuing from within that masked her approach.
Raspy chortles, fearful yelps, and lewd squishing noises rang out from ahead as Isolde picked up her pace accordingly. Rushing into a broadening chasm, steely knight was shocked by the lurid scene before her. Zarnivexa was reclining on her winged back upon a pile of heated riches, clutching the narrow shoulders of the squealing Vayner forcefully. The indignant prince was buried to his waist within the wet, churning confine's of the lusty dragoness' scale-rimmed cloaca. The obscene beast was using the royal like a living dildo, thrusting his thrashing legs in and out from her clinging, reptilian vent.
Knowing such a monstrosity did not deserve the dignity of a formal challenge, Isolde bounded forward on her booted paws, blade readied to punish the distracted drake. Zarnivexa reacted just in time, roaring in confused anger at Isolde's intrusion and sweeping her tail at the charging knight. Isolde leapt over the curling, scaled scut, bounding to the purple dragoness' side as she flipped around. Prince Vayner's head bumped hard against the cave's floor, his body still plunged into Zarnivexa's fearfully clutching cloaca as the female dragon awkwardly scrabbled about.
The enraged drake bellowed out a gout of fiery breath at Isolde, the wolf knight easily dodging to the side as she circled her defensive opponent. The trained warrior was just looking for an opening, her scaled opponent slightly distracted as Zarnivexa disengaged the pleading prince from her nethers. When Zarnivexa lunged out and extended a clumsy swipe at Isolde, the wolf woman dodged back and swung her own weapon deftly, cleaving several talons from the dragon's right claw. Zarnivexa immediately screeched out a pained hiss, and flapped away in a flurried chaos into the nearest cave corner. The big, purple dragoness mewled pathetically from deep in her sinuous throat, glaring at Isolde reproachfully while nursing her bleeding hand.
Isolde sprang to the dripping Prince's side, keeping an eye on her foe's quailing presence in the corner. "W-What the fuck Isolde? You maimed me! I could die from the blood loss, or infection!" the hurt dragoness bellowed, tying an opulent drape about her blood-spurting talon stumps.
The snarling wolf knight leveled her blade threateningly at the trembling dragon, barking back, "Don't play coy you wretched villain; your tricks won't work on me! If I let my guard down for a moment, you'll slay me mercilessly. Prince Vayner, to my side, we're leaving."
Zarnivexa just stared back at the pair with an incredibly hurt expression, still giving a sad, throaty warble of pain. "I wasn't really trying to burn you, you startled me is all! I wouldn't...I never...I'm calling this whole rivalry off! I'm leaving, this isn't fun anymore! You're not my frenemy, I can't believe you did this...I'll never be the same..." the dragoness cried out, her tone sounding surprisingly emotional as she clumsily slunk off deeper into the cave.
Isolde blinked her sparkling, yellow eyes for a moment, not really sure what to make of recent events as she carefully lead the traumatized human noble out of the cave. He was still soaking with with Zarnivexa's feminine fluids, so Isolde dutifully loaned him her underclothes, reduced to a scant tabard for modesty from the northern, high-altitude elements. The trained warrior woman still expected the dragon to vengefully swoop down at any moment, reasoning that her hated foe's words were just a confusing ruse, but a seed of doubt gnawed at Isolde's mind. What could she make of the dragoness' villainous actions under this light? Isolde reasoned that her scorned rival had never done anything too unforgivable...But the dutiful knight refocused herself, realizing her priorities laid entirely with the royal charge shivering under her arm.
The journey back to the capital was slow and arduous for the pair. Isolde had packed light to avoid rousing Zarnifexa's suspicions, and just staying warm was difficult in the frigid lands they traversed. One chilly night in particular would hold enormous significance for the entire future trajectory of the Walharne legacy. The night started like any other, as the hoarfrost-tinged pair made camp under the cover of pine boughs.
As the hours turned to midnight, the night progressed to a frigid harshness. Their meager campfire of pine needles doing little to compete with the creeping chill. Prince Vayner lacked the fur and fortitude of the disciplined knight, and suffered the cold poorly, despite hogging most of their coverings. He began shivering and clattering his teeth so violently, Isolde worried for the ailing prince's health, and set about intervening directly. She started by curling the shivering princeling's back into her chest, draping her tabard around to cover them both. She started her furry legs around his tight, clutching her hands to his chest between her wider paws, rubbing the blue-tinged digits to bring the warmth back before hypothermia claimed them.
Hours passed as the tired wolf woman forwent sleep to make sure her valued charge did not freeze throughout the night. She kept warming him with friction and proximity. Isolde expertly kept her larger, furry frame moving about the pampered youth in a tight snuggle, slowly bringing Vayner's temperature up in the process. Before long, Vayner turned around and clutched at Isolde from the front, her paws now resting on his back, which was almost sweating from the earlier warmth of her bosom.
The shivering royal clutched up to his lupine savior tight, burying his face into the soft fluff of her collarbone. Isolde became increasingly aware of her close, intimate proximity with the prince, his heartbeat and warmth filling her with a long-repressed sense of affection. She draped her long muzzle over the top of his head protectively, still rubbing the cold from his body where ever her paws found it.
The night had nearly broken to dawn, and Isolde was in a groggy delirium from her lack of sleep, keeping alert and attentive to the prince clutching about her plaintively. When Prince Vayner began lightly humping up between Isolde's strong, furry thighs, the wolf woman wasn't in a coherent state. She squeezed up tighter around the smaller man, licking at the top of his blonde head affectionately as she gratefully received his pressing hips. Isolde was so dazed with sleepiness she didn't even fully realized when the dry humping progressed to penetration, Vayner's swelling manhood peaking out as he thumbed his ill-fitting clothes down. The prince gasped softly as he trepidatiously prodded his engorged tip through Isolde's matted pubic fur, the wolf woman whining out in appreciation when his phallus stroke home into her puffy vaginal lips.
Prince Vayner squeaked slightly as Isolde clutched him hard enough to make his bones creak, her hips jutting up to press into his forcefully. The prince was instantly encompassed by the assertive wolf woman's clinging sex, the tightness of which made the pale young lord gasp boyishly into her fluffy breast. Taking advantage, Isolde used one paw to guide Vayner's mouth to one of her nipples, helping his eager lips find it through her downy fur. The aroused wolf woman yipped and growled slightly as her excited, unskilled lover responded favorably to the maternal affection she heaped on him. She had her other paw on the prince's small behind, helping to force his hips down into her pelvis as she ground upon him.
Vayner was an inexperienced lover, and Isolde took full imitative of their coupling. The sexually neglected wolf warrior was all to eager to show the eager human how to please her lupine frame, and soon the excited prince found out how to make Isolde howl with pleasure. Her claws lightly scratched at his back and her shaggy tail wagged up against his thighs when