Wiggle…
Squirm…
Shake…
Thrash…
		…..
				Huff. 

	Zeraora let out a deep exhale before letting the exhilaration take hold once more inside his chest as he marveled at the view in front of him. 
	Wiggle… 
		Wiggle…
			Squiiiiiirm….
	The dragon was trying his best, he truly was, but fate is a hard thing to fight. His pristine white paws and serpentine tail flailed around the outskirts of the Zeraora’s tail as it clenched around his form once more, emphasizing its complete hold over him by forcefully seizing his movements temporarily. 
	In that brief moment of marvel, as Zeraora’s tail whipped back and forth excitedly, hefty weight in each ebb, his mind harkened back to when he found and stalked the small dragon. A legend, a myth of mysticality followed in the pearlescent dragon’s wake. 
Some say the angel dragons come from a different world. 
Some… another reality altogether. 
Words weren’t enough to describe how much Zeraora craved that. But they were enough to spur him into action - to find and claim what would soon be his. 
	Tales of your legendary strength… 
of your marvelous miracles… 
	Of your potential and power. 
		Were they true? 
As he stalked him in the restless void of night…
During the shadows of twilight…
And even the dawns of new days…
But…
Zeraora hadn’t seen any of that from the myths. But that didn’t mean it wasn’t true. He would find out soon enough. If nothing else, he’d be a fine addition to the collection he’d gained over the years.
If nothing else… he’d be his. 
And only his. 

The dragon’s verbal protests started up again. A mixture of muffled squeaks and pants the Zeraora could scarcely hear past the thick muscles easing him in deeper. 
He’d had his fun. 
It was time.
The funnel of Zeraora’s tail swiftly widened and snatched up the remainder of the dragon in one swift motion before lifting him high into the air, letting gravity progress the dragon’s descent. 
The bulge wiggled most at the tip of the Zeraora’s tail - likely why he kept him there so long - but as his prey went further and further down, it became harder and harder to put up a reasonable fight as the muscles towards the base got thicker and stronger and left little room for movement besides forward. 
The deeper the dragon got, the more it was felt. Zeraora’s ears and nose wiggled and he even let out a slight purr of pleasure as the dragon finally reached the deepest section within his tail. 
Enzymes had already covered his prey’s form long since arrival, ensuring his progress and introduction into Zeraora’s core would be… seamless. The hefty bulge arched across the entirety of the feline’s tail as it concluded its descent, parting the adjacent fur along his back as the dragon concluded his landing at the base of it. 
The moment the dragon did, Zeraora felt a spark - of spiritual, almost otherworldly nature - that excited him to no end. Despite the dragon’s steadfast wiggles being felt in the depths of his tail, he kept him firmly in place. 

Once his prey is this deep, there’s no hope for escape. 
Zeraora licked his lips. 
Unbeknownst to the dragon, he’d just touched his very destiny. 
The conclusion of his fate.
All that was left to do now was open the metaphorical hatch. 
Zeraora took a deep breath, letting the air fill his lungs to their capacity and allowing his chest to expand, opening up the cavity within his core which funneled the dragon in head first. 
	He felt him as his head squeezed through the impossibly thick line and wall of gooey digestive enzymes leading to his core before entering the tight, fleshy corridors that would begin working on him instantaneously. His body met with such eager flesh that it wasn’t long until his entire form sunk so deep within Zeraora that he could feel every millimeter of excess movement. 
	Every wiggle… 
	Even every breath. 
Zeraora relished the moment briefly before his body’s anatomy worked autonomously to compress the dragon down… 
more and more… 
The internal rings clutched and squeezed around the dragon in a wet embrace.
It made him lose form… 
	It made him more malleable…
	It made him easier to hold, to secure perfectly into place.
	It was about to make him… Zeraora.
	The muscles within his core folded, 
and squished, 
and squelched, 
and churned, 
and lastly… 
The mighty feline bent forward and clutched his paws eagerly, feeling the electric power pulse between each digit as the process began to complete. 
Everything the dragon ever was
Everything the dragon ever would be…
Flowed directly into him. 
The glrks and glorps got louder as his body squeezed and constricted his prey repeatedly, leaving no room for retaliation anymore.
Zeraora felt every final movement as his paws synchronized with the dragon’s own… 
Opening… 
Closing… 
Chest outstretched, brimming with power and union. 
It was finally time. 
The line between them began to blur… 
Until….
		It wasn’t recognizable anymore. 

Had Weisyr opened his eyes during that time… he would’ve seen what Zeraora saw amidst the treetops above. 
Bright sunlight, almost too bright.  
He’d smell what he smelt, the scent of sweet nectar from the trees with an undertone of earthy ungrowth. 
He might even hear the wildlife nearby frolicking and fleeing simultaneously, as the birds nearby, leave their nests. 
Taste what Zeraora tasted - the slight singe in the air from the electricity arching across his body. 
And lastly… Most certainly… 
Feel what Zeraora felt. 
The blowing of the wind across a cascading mix of yellow and white fur - the same brilliantly pearlescent coat he once had - during a transformative process of its own. 
Zeraora’s body shook as the process reached its zenith. He took in every valuable aspect he could, diffusing it throughout his entire form and making each fiber of fur stand on end as their wondrous conclusion arrived. 
A grunt escaped his lips as an impeccable overflow of energy coursed through him, of which he knew would now permanently be his own. His eyes shot open wide and his paws outstretched in ecstasy.
For the outside world, their intricate union was nigh-instantaneous. 
But for them…
	Nay, For Zeraora…
	It was a full reverie. 
					G L U N K 
	Was the sound of a union of fate, body, and soul. The form of Weisyr had melded permanently with his own and gifted him powers even he hadn’t expected during his countless stalkings. 
	But damn were they worth it. 
Describing it as otherworldly would’ve been an understatement. It was as if he could do anything now - anything he imagined and so much more. The amount of untapped potential the dragon once had… It was almost beyond his comprehension. But, well, he’d get used to it. 
He always did. 
		gLLLLLLk….
			glllLLlk…
				gllk…
	The sounds of digestion ebbed into silence as Zeraora’s body finalized the process completely. 
	His new form and all these hidden powers were now… permanent. 
His and his alone. 
	Another perfect union. 
	Another piece to his collection. 
	Another reality that was more than fantasy. 
	The remnants of what was once a dragon had been slotted perfectly into place, like a puzzle piece to a greater whole. As Zeraora looked towards the sky, his eyes shined with new light.

	He exhaled a final time.

	Then, with speed unimaginable, began his search for even greater prey.