The Hunter and the Druid

The night elf was moving silently through the moonlit woods, his mind wandering, when a sudden odd and quiet yelp from his pet snapped his hunter training back into focus. He didn’t sense immediate danger, and yet something had made the Shadowmaw panther restless. Putting a hand down to calm him, the hunter then caught it too: the faint, estrous scent of a feline… and something more, but elusive.

It wasn’t long before they came upon her, a dim shape moving between the trees on a rise, her sleek dark blue-violet form silhouetted in the moonlight. Rubbing wantonly against a tree, the crescent-marked cat gave out a howl, loud, longing and beckoning.

Mecawyn quickly gripped a tuft of fur, holding back his cat before it gave chase. He couldn’t release Lyrah, because now he knew for certain…

Kaldorei.

The feline shape crested the rise and moved out of view. Mecawyn stepped quickly to follow, motioning for the panther to fall behind. Years of training kept the panther obedient.

Moving cautiously behind a large tree at the top of the rise, the hunter found the cat moving down into a hidden grotto. A small stream ran over a small outcropping at the far side, emptying into a pool of silvery glowing water. Was it some form of abandoned moonwell?

Before he could ponder the historical significance of the find, a magical mist began to form around the cat, and with a burst of mystic sparkling light, it returned to its true form…

The most beautiful night elf Mecawyn had ever seen.

Her youthful, leather-clad hips swayed in the flickering light of the pool as she stepped down and entered. He was captivated by those hips as she went through the motion of bending to wet her hair and then throwing it back, sending glistening drops of water flying.

The hunter’s pulse quickened as she began to carefully unfasten the clasps of her exquisitely fashioned armour. He couldn’t take his eyes off her, the way the water ran over her lavender skin and made it shine. Shbute released her firm, round breasts from their bondage, and he felt his manhood stir as he watched her move her hands over them, obviously glorying in their freedom. He couldn’t help but notice that she slowed the motion, perhaps momentarily satisfied, and repeated it over her now erect nipples.

There are likely few who can resist the moonlit sight of an unclad Kaldorei woman bathing waist-deep in an enchanted well, and Mecawyn was not among them. Entranced, he found himself moving forward almost against his will. He didn’t even notice the snap of the twig until the druid looked towards him in shock and panic, quickly covering her body. Some instinct told him it was time to retreat, and he began to move away into the trees, quickening his pace, afraid to look back.

Without warning, the weight of her cat form hit him full on, her huge paws bearing him to the ground and onto his back. As she sat upon his chest, snarling, it was very hard for him to resist the urge to reach for his blade. Her claws dug into his chest, and her glowing eyes raged at him. He motioned for Lyrah to stay back.

Without warning, the mist began to form again, and Mecawyn instinctively shielded his eyes from the flash of light so close to his face. When he opened them, he was surprised to find that the druid was still naked, but no longer wet from the pool.

“Your armour bears the mark of Cenarion,” she panted heavily, “You are with the Circle?”

“Well, yes, and you…” his words were cut off as her mouth met his lips full-on.

“Kyllina,” she said, breaking the kiss only long enough to introduce herself before putting a finger over his lips to silence him.

Without shame, she began to search for the straps and fasteners of his armour, undressing him. Pleasantly surprised and taken aback, Mecawyn could do little but watch in amusement as she quickly peeled off his armour and pulled his embroidered shirt over his head. Her hands took in the blue skin of his muscular chest, and she lowered her mouth to his again. He relished the texture of her small lips and the erotic push of her tongue. When she had trouble removing his belt, he saved her hands from fumbling, met her eyes and helped to remove the only barrier left between them.

Pulling back his garments, she released his manhood into the cool night air and began to run her hands over it, working it into hardness and sending shivers through him. Kissing him again, her mouth ran down his neck, and he couldn’t resist arching his back as she took his nipples between her lips, teasing first one and then the other.