Mmm.

"Clean up your mess first, little cat. I've no desire to let these bodies rot where they lie."

She laughs and forms a few shadow clones, and sets them to - carefully - burning away the bodies and structures.

Excellent.

"It seems a celebration is in order, then."

"Very much so," she purrs.

"To the victor go the spoils. What would you claim, Sjachletni?"

"You."

"Your dragon form." And then, with her excitement sweeping away her fear, her reservations - "Holding me tight." She steps even closer. "Hurting me."

"Uncommon, for a human. But a request I am more than willing to oblige."

Mmm.

Ellisaria transforms, grabs Sjachletni in her claws, and takes off into the air in one smooth motion.

Giggle! (And wiggling, just enough to challenge Ellisaria's grip.)

Ellisaria tightens her claws enough that the sharp edges dig into her skin.

Gasp and tiny moan.

She'll have five bloody lines cut into her by the time Ellisaria returns them to the lair. (More, if she struggles.)

Oh, she absolutely struggles.

No less than she expected.

When they get to the room, Ellisaria pins her down flat on her back and licks gently at the bleeding cuts with the tip of her tongue.

Eeeeep!

She arches into Ellisaria's tongue, as best she can. 

She'll earn herself a few new cuts with that.

"How hurt do you want to be, little cat?" Ellisaria asks, pressing a little more of her weight onto her foot.

"Very."

"Shall I crush your bones? Filet your muscles? Roast your flesh?"

Wiggle! "All of it."

"Bold as ever. Are you sure you can heal yourself of that?"

"Sure enough."

She huffs a laugh-

-and breathes out a lick of fire with it to kiss Sjachletni's face.

Moan.

What a lovely sound. Ellisaria would like to hear more of that.

Fortunately, as a firebreathing magic dragon, she has many, many tools to apply to this problem.