Mother never liked talking about my father.  The town's folk gossiped more than enough for her liking as is. She reasoned any questions I had would only add fuel to that fire.   Small wonder I felt so distant from them. 

It comes in waves, around the days of blossoming youth 

I always felt more at home in the forests, far from the stink of civilization and their idle conversation. Town always felt too...constricting for my liking. Especially once I was of age, all the repression and bother began to chafe me like an ill-fitting pair of boots. Not surprising I'd run into him there. 

We are meant for revelry, child. The Attendant's of Her Majesty the Queen of Spring, and adherent's to the realm's Bloom 

I didn't understand at the time what he meant, of course. It was all flowery nonsense in my mind, and I was far more consumed with practical questions of where he'd been, what I was, and why he left. Now I know better. 

You'll feel it like the heat of the sun upon a flower's petals. The urge of life returning once again, and the drive to go forth and multiply in turn. 

My eyes glinted with a foreign light, grin belying wicked intention and carnal revelry. I eyed the barmaid with a smoldering glance, winking as she blushed suddenly. It was high past time I did my dear old dad proud.  

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Something a little different this time, the tale of a changeling breeding his way across a fantasy setting. As always I'm eager to please, and more than happy to restructure prompts based on your kinks or suggestions. So long as we feature a little baby-making ya boi is happy. 

Feel free to chat or PM me if this prompt tickles your interest.