Picking her way carefully between snow-covered roots and boulders, Anwen made her way through the dense forest of the Wildwoods. Above her, the chill wind whistled gently through the bare branches of the trees, and she hugged her cloak tighter to herself to keep out the cold. All around her, the early evening light falling upon undisturbed snow gave the wintery landscape an ethereal, twilight beauty.

With every step, she felt the earth beneath her bare feet. Treading lightly, she made sure to avoid the thorns and briars that sprung up from beneath the powdery snow, keeping a loose grip on the gnarled wooden branch that served as her walking staff. With care, she stepped around a fairy ring, not wanting to disturb the fae folk that lived therein. Pausing, she took a moment to take in the world around her.

With a deep breath, she sighed contentedly. The beauty of nature never ceased to amaze her, even in the depths of winter, even after so many years of living among it. As she stood watching, she saw two robins twirling and dancing in the air as they darted past her, before disappearing between the trees. She smiled and carried on.

Ambling through the forest, she kept her eyes peeled for the nightsage she’d come to find. After all, as pleasant as the walk was, she only had a few more hours before the other druids would start arriving for the winter solstice. As high priestess, it was her duty to lead the celebrations, and therefore prepare the offerings to Pantilus, Lord of Beasts.

The spirit of nature was well-tempered enough; while not an evil god, he wasn’t necessarily good either. His philosophy was one of balance; between civilisation and the natural world, between humanity and the animals, between everything.

He also, however, quite enjoyed offerings.

Peering between the thick trunks of two trees, Arwen finally saw what she’d been looking for. Approaching the dark green shrub, it’s midnight leaves barely moving in the wind, she crouched down, unhooking the sickle she kept at her hip. Carefully, she took hold of the plant’s foliage, before cutting it from the ground in a single smooth motion. Holding it up, she took a moment to admire. It smelt faintly of mint, but with raw, earthy tones. Perfect.

Satisfied, she stood back up, carefully stashing the herb in her pouch before putting away her ceremonial blade. Looking up at the soft twilight sky, she guessed it was around five o’clock. Hefting her staff, she turned back towards her home. Before she started walking, she took a moment to stand still. Closing her eyes, she focussed on her breathing, exhaling slowly as she concentrated on her body. She felt every finger, every limb, every fibre of her being. She was perfectly in tune with herself.

And slowly, she felt herself change.

When she opened her eyes, she was much closer to the forest floor, no more than three feet tall. Her arms had become legs, and her hands hooves. Her skin had been replaced by light brown fur, her coat spotted with white blotches, and as she started to move she felt the agility in her new legs. In the form of a deer, Anwen began to canter off between the trees.

In this wild shape, she was able to move much faster, covering the distance with ease while easily avoiding the trips and hazards of the forest floor. Leaping athletically over a large tree root, she felt a surge of primal joy as she landed, galloping off again deeper into the forest. All around, the sounds and smells had become more vivid, more enticing, and she marvelled at the wonders of the natural world.

It didn’t take her long to return to her home in the centre of the wildwoods. As the forest gave way to a large clearing, and the snow-covered grass beneath her hooves turned to rough-hewn stones, she slowed herself to a trot. As she stepped into the open temple of Pantilus, she shut her eyes and let go of her new form, changing back to her true appearance. Human once more, she looked around at the towering obelisks and arches that surrounded her, forming a crude circle around the central dais.

Raising up from the ground, in the centre sat a large stone altar, again roughly carved from a boulder left here countless centuries before. Its sides were covered in intricate runes, as well as illustrations of the patron of nature and his disciples revelling in the beauty of the world. Quietly, her feet making no sound, she approached, and ran her hand across the polished surface of the top, as she had done so many times before. At the foot of the dais sat a bowl, and she let her satchel fall down next to it.

Far above her, above the treeline, she heard the cry of a hawk. A smile spread across her face as she turned her eyes skyward, and saw a large bird of prey circling above. It’s wings spread wide, it turned in the air, gliding down towards her, before slowing itself at the last minute and morphing into the shape of a bearded man, wearing a long green cloak. His face was ruggedly handsome, wild hair coming down to his shoulders adana escort and braided intricately. His skin was worn, toughened by the elements, and his eyes were the deepest shade of emerald green imaginable. With a smile, he stepped towards her.

“Anwen. It’s good to see you.”

The priestess smiled at the man.

“Gwydion my love. You’re early.”

“I didn’t want to risk arriving late.” Reaching her, he took her hand in his, holding it close. “It has been too long.”

Anwen nodded. “Yes. But, such is life, I’m afraid.” The Archdruid smiled at her words.

“I’m afraid so too. These woods are vast, and even then I am often needed elsewhere.”

“But, as always, you return.” She smiled as well. “Twice a year is better than never.”

The pair laughed, and kissed happily. Taking a seat on the ground, Gwydion lay his back against the altar as Anwen sat down next to him. She put her hand on his thigh, stroking him affectionately as she lay her head on his shoulder. It had been six months to the day since the two had last been together, at the celebrations for the summer solstice. She remembered it fondly, and as the two sat she couldn’t help but look forward to the night to come. Craning her head, she looked into his eyes once again. He had such beautiful eyes.

“So, tell me, how have you been the last few months?”

Gwydion chuckled. “Long. There is a lot to put right in the world, and spirits preserve me it is no easy task. But, it is my duty, as you have yours.” He shifted to look at her more easily. “How goes the temple?”

With a smile, Anwen looked around at the mossy stones around them, overgrown with vines and vegetation, now frozen and dying in the winter weather. “Well. It goes well. There is very little to say. The Wildwoods are as they were when you were last with me, and the time before that. There may be much to put right with the world, but here, nature still prevails.” She frowned. “Although keeping the bramble thickets at bay has been awfully tiresome.”

The Archdruid laughed, a deep and comforting noise that filled Anwen with a warm sense of joy. “No doubt, I’m sure.” Gently, he placed his hand on top of hers, absentmindedly running his thumb over hers. “You sell yourself short. The role of a high priestess is not an easy one.”

He was right about that. Anwen chewed her lip as she contemplated her duties; the daily rites she had to perform, the rituals to keep the Wildwoods free from corruption. Not to mention the more active defence of nature. The sickle she carried wasn’t just ceremonial; too many times she’d had to take up arms to defend the sacred place, from monstrous creatures as well as the agents of ‘civilisation’; treasure hunters and bandits come to sack the forest with no regard for the life that inhabited it.

Luckily, she rarely had to resort to violence. Usually, diplomacy worked perfectly fine, especially when combined with displays of her druidic magic. It certainly seemed difficult to disobey her when she spoke in a voice as loud as thunder, vines sprouting from the ground at her command as the sky turned dark and tempestuous. More often than not unwanted interlopers would turn on their heel, screaming as they ran from her sight, disappearing back to where ever they came.

With a smile, she planted a soft kiss on his cheek. “It would seem duty keeps us both busy.”

“So it seems.” Gwydion turned towards her again, bringing his hand up to her cheek, tilting her face back towards him as he kissed her lips. As their mouths met, she felt a swell of warmth in her chest. It had been so, so long since she’d felt his body close to hers. As they broke apart, she glanced around the clearing, before turning back to him.

“You know, we still have a few hours before the ceremony begins. Perhaps we could make an early start on the celebrations?”

Catching her meaning, her lover chuckled affectionately. “I would love to.”

——————–

Down on her hands and knees, her simple robes discarded on the floor next to her, Anwen gasped and moaned as she felt Gwydion’s teeth on her neck. From behind, his hands tight on her waist, she felt his cock thundering in and out of her, making her body shake with the force of his thrusts. Between her legs, her damp pussy shuddered, wave after wave of tingling pleasure shooting through her as she was taken fiercely by the Archdruid.

Kissing and gently biting her, she heard his gruff pants and growls next to her ear, and in response felt herself getting even wetter. With her naked body pressed close to the ground as the man behind her fucked her like a wild beast, the high priestess felt incredibly erotic; wild and primal, like a vixen in heat. Crying out with lust, she did her best to steady herself as Gwydion’s hips slammed against hers, making her ass shake with impact.

Locked together in the centre of the clearing, the two druids made furious love to each other. The eskişehir escort sounds of their union echoed between the stone obelisks, filling the temple with their grunts and groans and the slapping of skin on skin. Anwen couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt so aroused, so sensual and exposed. Falling forward, she felt her breasts touch the stone, her hard nipples rubbing against the ground as Gwydion continued to pound into her. From behind, she felt his nails dig into her flesh, sending a trembling wave of primal lust up her spine as he groaned above her. The weight of his body on top of hers made the priestess feel incredibly erotic; a combination of safety and submission, and she moaned out in ecstasy.

Alone in the forest, she often found herself craving a partner to satisfy her urges. Laying alone in the temple, her fingers darting in and out of her wet folds as she closed her eyes and moaned out her lover’s name, she would imagine he were there beside her, taking her with the wild passion of a stag. Now, she was once again experiencing her deepest desires in reality. With so much time passing between their meetings, the pair of druids were loath to waste even a second, and she knew the real reason he’d arrived so early; so that he could pin her down and make up for lost time.

And so he did. With seemingly endless stamina, the Archdruid thrust himself forward, spearing his thick cock in and out of Anwen’s eager entrance, grunting as his hips made contact with her, his shaft buried in her to the base before withdrawing, only to plunge forward again. With his arms on either side of her, he let his weight fall on her heavily, as he reached an arm underneath her to tease her clit while his hips kept up their constant assault.

On the ground, the high priestess could already feel a monumental orgasm approaching. Gasping and crying, she urged her lover onward, to take her harder, faster, deeper. To make love to her like the animal he was. As his fingertip began to caress her aching bud, her arousal only grew stronger, her whole body flushed and quivering with the intense pleasure.

With a sudden, piercing cry, she felt herself fall over the edge, and her legs instinctively tightened as she began to climax. Pinned underneath her lover, there was nothing she could do but moan as her body began to spasm, trapped by his chest and arms. She felt the muscles in her abdomen contract, squeezing her pussy tight around the thick shaft inside her, quivering as Gwydion fucked her through her orgasm.

Her body streaked with sweat, and her face bright red with a mixture of arousal and exertion, Anwen finally felt herself returning to the world. In her ear, she could hear the ragged breathing of her lover, and she cooed to him as his thrusting grew erratic. Eyes shut tight, his face suddenly split into a bestial roar, his hips slamming forward one last time as his cock began to erupt wave after wave of cum into her fertile womb. Feeling his cock twitching made Anwen groan with pleasure, the hot spurts of semen splashing into her sending little jolts of warmth through her abdomen. By the time he was spent, the two lay panting on the ground, Gwydion still on top of his lover as his cock slowly softened inside her.

Turning to look back at him, eyes hazy and mouth open, Anwen tried to catch her breath. Looking down, Gwydion did the same. Leaning in close, their mouths connected once more, tongues dancing between their lips as they kissed passionately, the kiss of two kindred souls. Breaking apart, Anwen let her head fall forward again, her forehead resting on the cool ground as she recovered from their fierce lovemaking. Above her, she felt Gwydion kiss the back of her neck, his hands gently rubbing her waist in a sensual display of affection. Feeling his semen beginning to trickle out of her and onto the stone floor, she wondered if perhaps this would be the night the two of them finally conceived, so that the strength of their love might bring new life into the world. She hoped it would be.

——————–

It wasn’t long after that that the other druids began to appear. Arriving in groups, some in wild form and others in human, Anwen and Gwydion welcomed them all to the open temple. Now dressed in her ceremonial attire, with her face painted in intricate green markings, the high priestess felt her connection to the natural world even stronger than before. The solstice was a sacred time for druids all across Erosia, and tonight they would all be gathering to give tribute in whatever way their customs dictated.

With the turning of the seasons came a great surge of power in the world, as the plants and animals shook off their winter coats, and prepared for the warmth of spring that would soon come. And now, under the light of the moon, the Druids of Treimara were preparing to celebrate that power, and to laugh and revel in the beauty of the world around them. It was a special time, a time for sakarya escort people to come together and give thanks to the Lord of Beasts. And as Archdruids, it was Anwen and Gwydion’s honour and duty to lead the celebrations.

With midnight approaching, the traditional start of the celebrations, the druids began to form a wide circle around the edges of the clearing, centring on the dais. Carrying a simple wooden bowl filled with a stewed mixture of sacred herbs, Anwen made her way around the circle. With both hands, she offered the bowl to each person in turn, who drank from it before nodding in thanks. By the time she had returned to her starting place, the bowl had only enough left for two.

Across from her, standing on the other side of the altar, was Gwydion, wearing his own ceremonial attire. Naked from the waist up, around his neck he wore a simple necklace of animal teeth. His eyes were painted black, and he too had green markings on his face. His hair had been braided with bark, and around his wrists, two woven bracelets sat comfortably. Around his waist, he wore a kilt of leaves and hide, and nothing more. Raising his hands above his head, he motioned towards her.

Stepping towards him, the bowl still in her grip, the lady of the forest felt her heart beating quickly. Stepping around the altar, she made her way towards him, and as she approached he took a step forward. Meeting in the middle, she offered him the bowl, and he took it from her, drinking deep from the herbal concoction, before offering her the bowl back. Finally, it was her turn to drink, and tilting her head back she felt the thick liquid run down her throat. Immediately, her fingers began to tingle, her body reacting to the powerful chemicals released by the nightsage.

As she brought the bowl away from her lips, a chant began to rise from the crowd around them, slow and rhythmic, like the beating of a drum. As their voices grew louder, the two parted, walking back to their original places just inside the circle, turning back to each other, Anwen felt the heat rising throughout her body. Beginning in her chest, it quickly spread, igniting her limbs as the power of the nightsage coursed through her. Her mind began to slow, her heart beating in time with the druids’ chant.

Slowly at first, she began to dance, her body swaying side to side before rocking more deliberately. Extending her arms skyward, she began to roll her hips, gently turning as she circled on the spot. Her eyes closed, and she felt the sound of the chorus in her body as she moved faster, her limbs flowing like water around her as she danced. She knew across from her Gwydion was doing the same, his arms moving through the air like great trees in a storm.

Rolling her head around her neck, she felt the heat reach her brain, filling her mind with a coursing flame. A flame of passion, of desire, that made her body tremble and her nether’s quiver. Between her legs, she could feel her pussy beginning to grow wet, the powerful aphrodisiac she had drunk mixing with her own carnal urges to form an almost unbearable heat in her loins.

As her arms circled the air around her, her form now moving faster, gliding gracefully around the circumference of the circle like a leaf in the wind as the druids chant grew louder, she felt her heart beating louder and louder in her ears. Her eyes still shut tight, she knew Gwydion felt the same, matching her tempo as the two circled each other around the altar. Soon, it as too much too bare. Opening her eyes, the high priestess reached up, and slipped her robes down to the ground, exposing her naked body to the crowd. All she wore were bracelets around her wrists and ankles, the flowers woven into her hair, and the beautiful bone necklace around her collar.

She felt incredible. The drugs and the heat mixed in the chill air to form a fire that could never be extinguished. All around her, the druids began to sway as well, feeling the power themselves as they watched her and Gwydion dance. Across, she saw his kilt drop, his thick member already erect as he watched her with hungry eyes. She felt his desire burning through her, and couldn’t help but groan in carnal lust as a response. Moving forward, twirling and gyrating, she met him by the altar, her hand touching his cheek as he pulled her close.

Their naked bodies pressed tight together, the priest and priestess began to move in time, a sensual dance of lust and love. Their limbs moved in time, long slow movements as their hips stayed tight together. Anwen could feel his cock pressed against her stomach, and the feeling made her pussy drool with nectar at the thought of what would come next. Her body ablaze, she took his hand in hers, bringing his face to within an inch of her mouth as she kissed him passionately.

Before they could get carried away, they parted, bodies separate as they continued their primal ritual. All around the air was full of cries and chants, singing and dancing that brought the forest alive as the collected druids gave thanks to nature in the way of their faith. Feeling their eyes on her, her naked form streaked with sweat, Anwen felt a power coursing through her veins. She needed to feel Gwydion inside her. To feel him moving deep in her pussy, to feel his body pressed to hers in an act of bestial, animalistic need.