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The great green sea billowed in the wind under the heavy, furry paws of the majestic white lions. The human women rode across the valley in their scarlet, silk robes scarfed about their head. Their giant golden hooped nose rings shimmering under the hot sun.

They had been riding for two days towards the fabled woods, the land of the “Il-voquen,” the last of the Elf Lords. Since the crusades the Orcs had been virtually wiped out, the goblin race as well, but at a heavy cost. Most menfolk of the humankind had been killed. Because of the human kinds short lifespans, they were struggling to replenish their numbers.

The closest being that could breed with them were the elves. The Lords of the Old World had also been cut down in the last Great War…their numbers culled, the light that guides them shattered in west, north, and south. As human kind need air, the Il-voquen need the lights of the gilded star and now only one remains, even still rumors only. As they all traveled eastward they cling to only hope.

Nevertheless, they were humankind’s only hope now, of they were to persist and rule this new age in the absence of the Elves, they would need a new generation. So the Queens of the Pride Lands rode to the fabled wood where they were last seen.

“Shall we scout ahead?” L’shme asked as striding along side Queen Dyna on her black panther.

“Please,” she replied softly. “If seen, bow low and request and audience.” She instructed. L’shme made a clicking sound with her cheek and the black cat leaped into a sprint, covering the last mile quickly before bounding into tree line.

The queen watched her disappear and silently thought if this was futile. She had almost made a whore of herself seeking out someone who could fertilize her garden. She still had plenty of child bearing days ahead of her but they were closing fast if she were honest with herself. She had seen 30 summers, she figured she had maybe 15 left before she could no longer conceive.

It had been three years since she saw a human man and it had not been her prerogative then to become with child, she wished she could turn back time to that night now. She would have held the traveler down, rode him like a stallion until he she milked him thrice.

Appearance and preference mattered little anymore, she needed a son and he could come from any well hung male that was able to breed with her kind. She only hoped to discover one for herself and her tribe.

NSFW: yes

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