Yes.

"No." She refused to give up now. So long as she still lived, the glade would survive and recover. She didn't have the wellspring of the glade and now she didn't have her wings but she still had power. She could feel the pit of heat deep inside her, smoldering like the embers of a forest fire. It felt... wrong. Harsh and toxic, like the giants. But it was strong and she would use it to defend her home no matter the consequences.

"Rraaaaagh!" Aster leapt up, the sucking mud around her torched to blackened, stinking rock. "AAAAAAH!" The laughing stopped. Her arms felt like they would be blown apart like her wings as she **** the explosive energies through them. She held onto it, despite the searing pain. She couldn't let this power free without guiding it, or the whole glade would not only be dead and dry but also on fire.

Wet. She needed water... but where? The seemingly inexhaustible font of energy in her core answered her prayers once more, the burning heat condensing into... moisture? She lowered a hand, gasping at the pleasure as she ran it between her legs. The fluid was clear and sweet smelling. Like nectar. She licked her fingers. Mmm... stronger than nectar.

Her hand dropped between her legs, fingers rubbing furiously to extract the nectar. It felt... soooooo goooood... but these tiny droplets would never water the glade! Oh just you wait, the power inside seemed to say, it's breadth expanding to fill her from head to toe before pressing out on her skin. It should have hurt, should have burned like never before... It burned but it didn't hurt.

"AaaaaAAAAAAAH!" The power exploded through her, mind numbing pleasure arcing across her and boiling over into her surroundings. The scorched earth around her was crisped to ashes but it didn't stay that way for long. The nectar spilling down her legs amplified as it touched the ground, growing to a torrential wave that swept over the torched landscape. No more wriggling things below, no more human poison, no more weak fey. A clean slate.

Aster smiled beatifically as the effusion of power calmed but did not diminish. She lifted her hands and the flood calmed, receding and settling into rivers where she deemed appropriate. With a flourish she raised hills and mountains, shaping the world into what she desired. She just needed life to populate it.

The wellspring answered this as well, a great pressure forming in her groin and erupting forth as a well-formed cock. She stroked it lovingly, drawing from it the white seed of life and casting it over her empty world. Wherever the white seed landed, life erupted. New life, her life, her children. Her servants. Her slaves.

Vast, black, barbed trees stretched to the sky, beyond anything ever seen in the old world. White vines spread faster than the most virulent ivy, chased by creatures of elegant shape, which were themselves hunted by winged beings made in her own image. Aster smiled at the paradise she had created, continuing to stroke herself and feed the purring wellspring of pleasure inside her.