Free Futanari Legends: The Frozen Queen (Book 2: Astrid) by Angel Black Page A

quickly and draw blood. It needs to force its prey into another attack, or draw blood quickly.
    This is the moment when an attacker is the most dangerous, for it has rage and momentum on its side. Knowing that gives me the advantage over it.
    The game immediately changes. I must wear the attacker down by presenting a difficult target, and forcing it to spend its energy of flailing and ineffective attacks.
    I know now what you are going to do, dragon. I now have the edge again.
    Predictably, it spins and circles around for another pass. This gives me a moment to run further down the river and chase Chloe’s body. I see it sail away from me, rounding eddy and curve, flowing over rocks and being taken away. I jump back to the other side of the river, and this gives me several rocks to run across to gain ground on Chloe before I lose sight of her.
    I need to measure my steps. The dragon is wheeling around in the air, its head locked on me, and its body sailing through the air in a wide arc. It needs to think, to watch me, to line itself up for a perfect moment. I need to keep a few steps ahead so my options are many, but most importantly I need to watch the beast’s speed.
    It could slow down and land. Since the beast is angry, and it has a bolt stuck up its hindquarters, I doubt this. One does not expend energy to sit at rest. One does also not sit on the ground with a sharp piece of wood lodged in your ass.
    It could speed up and try to pick me off the rocks again. I can’t really tell the speed at this angle, so this could be a possibility.
    It could keep a moderate speed and breathe fire down on me from above. Flame is trailing from its mouth, likely out of anger, so this remains a good possibility. If the dragon is flying too fast, it can’t breathe fire without choking up on the flames. This is my bet, and I settle on fire as the way this beast will strike again.
    If I am wrong, I may need to improvise.
    So I am running across several rocks, jumping from one to the other, and waiting for the beast to strike. Instead of trying to outrun him, I deliberately choose to run so my path takes me towards an invisible goal. I see a spot down the river in a patch of calm, shallow water, where I could jump off a rock and onto the shore. I could also jump onto another rock and reach the opposite shore. If the beast strikes me there, I present him two options.
    I run, my legs burning, Chloe gently floating away, while I jump from rock to rock. I time my jumps right as the shadow of the beast looms over me. One last rock, and I feel the rush of wind as the beast approaches. I hear the rumble of his mighty lungs draw in, and the heat of his maw opening as he lines up the searing blast that will mean my life.
    This is the moment.
    I pick the third option.
    I hadn’t told anyone about it, nor thought of it too soundly, since I am always wary of those who read minds.
    I jump into the river, and dive just under the surface of the water. The world above me turns to orange fire as I feel the water boil around me. And I singed? A bit. Am I dead? Most certainly not, for water beats fire, and a stupid dragon just wasted a lot of energy in his rage.
    You missed me, cursed spawn of the Lindwurm.
    I sail down river, swimming with the current, and popping up to catch a breath every now and then. I can’t let Chloe sail away, I can’t lose sight of her, and now I am feeling the need to get to her quickly because this has gone on too long. I have no idea how long she has been under, and the chance of her succumbing grows with each heartbeat.
    I pour myself into swimming, the current making it difficult, but my body pounding the water as I push towards her. I lose sight of the dragon, and I pray I can get a look as he lines up for another pass on me. Perhaps I can duck between rocks on the edge and hide, or dive under the surface to evade him.
    But then life changes its mind again, and throws me another circumstance of which I did not predict. I